The Existence of Love is Optional
by friedzoaster
Summary: Antonio just wants to get laid. Lovino has a secret he will take to the grave. When Antonio is assigned to be Lovino's therapist, he gets a little too involved in Lovino's life and begins to understand what Lovino's life is really like and the dark secrets he carries. (Previous title was "The Truth Withheld," I changed it to better fit the storyline.)
1. Chapter 1

It was spring, the time for meeting someone, for kindling new love, for hooking up with a random person and having fabulous, glorious sex for one night and never seeing them again, and Antonio was beginning to get desperate.

Although he was a therapist at Zwingli Therapy, he started to wonder if he was going to need therapy himself. He was beginning to get frustrated; all of his techniques and pick up lines and cute Spanish accents and pretending to not know English, they weren't working. He hadn't gotten laid in a month. A _month. _

That was a record for Antonio, apart from the first fifteen years of his life, but that hardly counted since he was practically a babe in the womb.

He even considered asking his friend, Francis, how he did it, but then realized after five minutes of France explaining his "techniques" that he really, _really _didn't want to know.

He even tried going to that new bar, Deep Blue, and still no action. It wasn't as if there weren't any cute, available, girls around. In fact, there was an abundance of them. The only problem was that they all wanted some _love, _that strange newfangled emotion that Antonio couldn't comprehend at all.

_People live their whole lives without love, _he liked to think. _And so can I, I get along just fine without it._

But that was the problem. Without this fabled "love", Antonio couldn't get any action. Of course, he could just say he loved someone and then have sex, but he hated lying and he hated liars and he didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings, and he didn't want to be labeled as a "heartbreaker" or a "ladykiller."

So, without further ado, Antonio began his quest for love.

* * *

He started with speed dating.

"Al_right!" _the overly enthusiastic announcer yelled into his mike, making Antonio wince. One hair on the announcer's blond head stood straight up, and the light reflected off of his glasses, making his eyes look like little mirrors. "Who's ready for some _love!" _The announcer waited for a response but received none, only the clinking of glass on teeth and the occasional munch or murmur. "I _said, _who's ready for so-" his voice was cut off as another blond man with huge eyebrows wrenched the microphone from his hand.

"Give it a rest, Alfred," Antonio heard the man say, before placing the mike in front of his mouth. "Starting in 3.. 2.. 1!" The bell rang.

Antonio's first partner was a sun-tanned man with hair the color of graphite down to almost his shoulders, clothed simply in a white t-shirt and jeans. He wasn't bad looking, Antonio decided, and not a total waste of time.

"So, why don't you tell me a bit about yourself?" He started.

"Well, I…" the man looked down at his glass, his voice so quiet and soft that Antonio could barely hear him over the din of the club. "My name is Heracles Karpusi."

"And..?" Antonio prodded, trying to get a response from the man.

"What?" Heracles looked up. "What do you want me to say?"

"Well, what do you like?" Antonio asked, sensing that Heracles was not well versed in socializing.

"…I like cats." he said eventually.

Great. Now Antonio had a crazy cat lady on his hands, except thirty years younger, with a better wardrobe, and a dick.

Just what he needed.

Thankfully, the bell rang just in time and Antonio got up hastily and said his goodbyes to Heracles, but not after receiving Heracles's number, which Antonio stuffed in his back pocket hastily, vowing never to call it.

The next partner was a very pretty, effeminate looking girl in Chinese clothes with a black ponytail swung over her shoulder, who sat down quietly at Antonio's table and folded her arms. Antonio grinned. _This _was what he had been looking for, some hot chick and not a lonesome guy with a cat fetish.

"Hey," Antonio said, with _just _the right amount of Spanish accent in his voice. _Damn, I am so smooth! _he thought to himself, internally cheering.

The girl nodded a hello.

"So, having a good time?" Antonio asked. The girl hesitated, then shook her head. Antonio wasn't entirely sure if she even spoke English, due to her not having said a word since she sat down. "Want to have a good time?" Antonio asked again, smiling.

A moment's silence.

"I'm not gay, idiot." The girl said, with a thick Chinese accent. Antonio was so surprised he almost jumped.

"But- you're a girl, and I'm a guy. How does that make you gay?" he protested, confused.

She rolled her eyes. "I identify as male. Thanks for noticing, twat. Fuck you."

"W-wait. So you _will _fuck me?" Antonio asked, annoyed that he hadn't noticed.

The Chinese man got up and started walking away. "Not a chance," he called over his shoulder. Antonio cursed.

"Can I still have your number?" Antonio yelled after him. The man stuck up his middle finger. Antonio sighed.

Third time's a charm, right? At least that's what Antonio told himself, hoping that the next person wasn't a total nutcase. His prayers were answered as a very pretty dark-skinned girl with black hair in two pigtails, tied with red ribbons, and a white lacy dress sat down across from him.

"Nice to meet you," Antonio greeted. She looked down at her hands, which were lying in her lap, twiddling with a piece of cloth from her dress. She didn't reply.

Oh god, was this some other androgynous guy/girl/whatever with a short temper?

"Nice night, isn't it?" Antonio said, hoping she didn't pick up on the uneasiness present in his voice. Still no reply. "I'm Antonio." he said again, extending his hand for her to shake. She didn't take, only stared at it with some sort of livid fascination, as if she was wondering what exactly she was supposed to do with it. "What's your name?" Antonio queried, hoping for a response. She didn't answer.

"Uh… do you speak English?" he asked, feeling awkward. Predictably, there was no answer, just silence as she gazed at him, confused. "English." He said again. "You." He pointed at her. "Speak." Gestured to his mouth. "English?"

The silence was crushing.

_"Española?"_

* * *

The rest of the night continued on in that manner, and after Antonio had encountered a particularly intimidating and terrifying Swede, who's accent was almost completely lacking of vowels and who's bespectacled blue eyes seemed to stare _straight into Antonio's soul_ and who seemed to know all of Antonio's ulterior motives, he had decided he had had enough craziness for one night.

Thoroughly disgruntled and unnerved, Antonio exited the bar at eleven and somehow managed to catch the very last train and head back to his little apartment and, exhausted, fell onto the couch and fell fast asleep.

* * *

The next morning (more like afternoon, as Antonio woke up sometime around 1); he stretched, yawned and sat up, still fully clothed. He poured himself a bowl of Cheerios, noticing only that when he went to pour the milk that there was no milk left. Scowling, he brought the bowl of dry cereal to his couch and switched on the TV, propping his feet up on the messy coffee table.

He watched the news for a bit, grimacing as images of the war filled the screen, followed by a report on Snooki's latest antics. Revolted, he switched the channel. No matter how famous Shooki or Snooka or whatever-her-name-was, he still wouldn't tap _that. _

The commercials started and Antonio was 1000% done, about to turn the TV off, when an ad caught his attention.

"Looking for love? For that special someone? For long walks on a beach with your beloved? Or just can't get any action?" a male voice said.

Mesmerized, Antonio nodded.

"Well, fear not! Here at E-Z , we can bring you just the help you need! Say _goodbye _to _celibacy _and _hello _to _love!_"

A url appeared in the corner of the screen as an attractive blonde in a very low cut top smiled and waved at the camera, and then disappeared after giving her riveting testimonial: "David and I have been together for two years and we are _sooo _happy! I'm even going to get engaged! Thanks E-Z !"

Antonio didn't need to hear any more. He reached for his laptop, which, admittedly, was really his roommate's, since Antonio's therapy job was going pretty shitty, probably because he tried to hit on all of his customers and so didn't get paid very much by his stingy boss, Vash Zwingli. He typed his passcode (l4lALAnD) and entered the site.

He was a bit confused about what he was exactly supposed to do, so he just made an account. Then, they wanted him to give his information. Befuddled, he entered his name, age, and country of birth, and added a photo of himself smiling(with his shirt off), taken by his photographer friend, Kiku Honda.

Now the stupid site wanted his interests. Interests? Did he even have interests? Eventually he put "sex," "tomatoes," and "butts." Occupation: Therapist. Hobby: wasn't that the same thing as interests?! Sexual Orientation: Both.

Finally, Antonio was done, clicking on "submit." He sat back and waited for the requests to come in.

* * *

Two and a half days later, the only person found who matched his interests was a 40 year old man living in New Guinea. He sighed in frustration and closed the laptop.

* * *

After around a week, Antonio got an email from E-Z , saying that a Henrietta, aged 18, who also enjoyed sex and butts (but not tomatoes) and who lived about two hours away, wanted to meet him. Antonio punched the air in triumph. This was it! This was his lucky day!

He launched into a song he had written with his friend Gilbert back in high school, "Guess Who's Getting' Laid Tonight," shouting the vocals and jumping around ecstatically, playing air guitar. The song went a little along the lines of:

_"Guess who's getting' laid tonight?_

_It's me_

_And not you_

_Tonight I'm gonna fight_

_For my right_

_To delight_

_In glorious indulgence_

_Because_

_I'm gettin' laid tonight!_

_Gettin' laid tonight!_

_Gettin' laid tonight!_

_Yeah!"_

Not surprisingly, it was hugely unsuccessful, along with "I Don't Wanna Clean My Room," "Your Mom," and "Ballad of the Herpes" (Francis's personal favorite).

* * *

Still in a good mood, Antonio stepped off the subway and somehow managed to get to a small Starbucks without getting lost. There, alone at a table, was a gorgeous African-American lady with a butterfly tattoo on her right shoulder, clad in a black tank top and green cargo pants, sipping a coffee and looking around as if she was waiting for someone.

Antonio grinned and headed over, but then a tall, butch girl with a spiky hairdo and piercings dotting her face like metal freckles sat down across from the girl and she leant over and gave her a quick kiss.

Antonio looked around the coffee shop, seeing only a couple of arguing business men, two hipsters taking pictures of their coffee, and a fat, wrinkled old lady sitting by herself in a secluded corner. She reminded Antonio very much of an elephant wearing a giant flowered muumuu. Upon seeing Antonio staring at her, she blushed and waved at him, beckoning for him to come closer.

Antonio searched around the small joint, pretending not to see her, but was helpless as she got up and walked towards him at a pace alarming for a woman of both her age and size.

"Oh, are you a little shy?" she purred. "How _darling." _Antonio suppressed the urge to run.

"H-Henrietta?"

"Antonio!" She hugged him, and despite her being much shorter than he was, he still felt as if she was the larger one, crushing him with her massive weight. Although in truth, she probably weighed more than him, he realized. "I've been waiting for you…" she whispered in his ear, and Antonio felt something wet on his ear.

Did she just _lick _him?!

Antonio disentangled himself from her grip, shaking his head. "I don't think-" he started, but she interrupted him.

"Come and sit down with me, won't you?" It wasn't so much a request as an order. He followed her to her little alcove in the back and sat down. "Want something to drink?" she offered.

"I'll go get myself a coffee," Antonio said, standing up.

"No, no no- I'll do it." Henrietta excused herself and made her way to the barista. Antonio buried his face in his hands. What had he gotten himself into?

A coffee cup was placed in front of him. "Go on, drink up!" she said. Antonio looked at it hesitantly and then took a sip. It was coffee, all right, but strangely sweet and soothing… instead of the normal buzz he felt from the caffeinated goodness of coffee, he found himself becoming drowsy. He finished his coffee and looked up to see Henrietta smiling at him, a strange look in her eyes.

"Why don't we take a walk?" she offered. Antonio nodded, hoping that the cool air would wake him up. Surprisingly, they exited out of a back door that Antonio didn't even know existed, into a dusty alleyway where they were completely alone, save for two men bickering in Italian a while away, so lost in their argument they didn't even notice the odd couple.

Henrietta started walking towards Antonio, placing one foot in front of another, like a jaguar stalking her prey. And Antonio was her prey, he realized, as he walked backwards slowly, until he found himself backed up against the brick wall.

"Wh-what are you doing…?" he asked, yawning. She didn't answer, only leaned closer and began unbuttoning his shirt. Antonio was so sleepy he barely even noticed, until he felt wrinkly hands tugging at his belt. It was then that he realized what was happening- he had been drugged by a crazy eighty year old elephant-woman in a flowery muumuu and was going to get raped.

Shit.

He tried to fight her, but instead he just sort of pawed at her uselessly, his limbs feeling numb. He tried to yell, but a mumble escaped his lips. His pants were around his ankles as he slid to the ground, when all of a sudden-

_WHAM_

Antonio looked up. One of the previously bickering Italian brothers punched Henrietta so hard she toppled over. The other, lighter haired one, rushed over and held her down.

"Take her to the police," the darker haired one ordered. He was obviously the older brother, and the smaller one nodded and tried to pick up Henrietta but buckled under her enormous weight. Eventually he sort of dragged her away, Henrietta in a sort of stupor.

"What the hell are you doing? Get up!" The older one yelled at Antonio. He sort of pushed up with his legs and managed a sort of squat before toppling over again.

"Goddamn." The Italian cursed. He roughly pulled Antonio up to his feet and put Antonio's trousers on Antonio's bare legs again, and roughly buttoned up his shirt. "Can you walk?"

"Nnnggg…" Antonio moaned in response, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth.

"Fuck." The dark haired man cursed, and slowly lifted Antonio up into his arms, bridal style, trembling under his weight. "You eat too much." he complained, before taking him inside a dingy Italian café and placing him gingerly on an empty table. The customers stared, mouths agape, forks hovering.

"What are all ya assholes looking at?" he yelled. "Move it! Go on, get out!" He yelled something again in Italian, gesturing wildly, and this time everyone ran out, screaming, abandoning their purses and coats. The man smiled roughly and collected all the leftover belongings and threw them into a back room, laughing. "Idiots."

"You alright?" he inquired. Antonio leaned over the edge of the table and threw up. "That was my favorite shirt, you bastard! You're paying for that!" the man screeched, redfaced. Antonio blinked. "Hey, you hearing me?" the man asked again, but Antonio had already passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

Antonio awoke on his own couch, stripped down to his boxers under a thin blanket. He shivered and sat up, pulling the blanket around him. His roommate, Colin, wandered in, brushing his teeth, a towel wrapped around his waist. He pulled out the toothbrush and spat in the sink, then stuck the toothbrush back in the corner of his mouth like a cigar.

"Those were some pretty intense drugs that lady gave you. You were out for about a day. Feeling any better?" he asked, the toothbrush jiggling on his lip. Antonio nodded. "Vash called. In a couple of hours, you're needed at work."

Antonio moaned and rolled off the couch, landing on the floor with a bump. He lifted his head and whacked it on the underside of the coffee table and fell down to the floor again. Colin laughed and Antonio threw the remote at him, which missed and went sailing out the window and onto the highway 3 stories below their window. Moments later, a crash was heard and several cars honked and tires screeched. Someone swore loudly.

"I'm not paying for that," Colin said, grinning. Antonio stuck his middle finger up at him.

"I dun wanna go ta work," he complained, still lying facedown on the ground.

"Well too bad, buddy, they need you. Besides, you gotta pay for some asshole's new windshield now too, as well as my bike which you wrecked, my old TV, and about two hundred dollars worth of tomatoes."

"Fuck you, Colin."

"You're totally my bitch forever, Toni." Still laughing, Colin headed over to the fridge, peering inside. "We have… lettuce, hot sauce, gravy, cheese, and some moldy strawberries. What do you want for breakfast?"

"I don't want breakfast," Antonio mumbled.

"C'mon, man! Gotta have breakfast! It's the most important meal of the day! It'll make you a champ-pee-on!" Colin sang.

"Shut up about champ-pee-ons or else someone else is gonna become a Colin-pee-on."

"Awww, who's mister grumpyface today?" Colin crouched in front of him and dragged him upwards. "Go on. Get your cute little ass in the shower before I make you go to work in your Spongebob boxers."

* * *

Two hours later, Antonio arrived at work, still yawning. As he opened the door, he was greeted by an overenthusiastic German (or _Prussian_, as he would say. Gilbert still insisted that he was the last surviving Prussians and someday his country would come back together and he would be made king of the world and would forbid anyone from eating chicken. However, he still lived in his younger brother's basement playing World of Warcraft and living off of hot Cheetos, so his future didn't look too bright.) and an unsurprisingly under enthusiastic Frenchman, who was adjusting his shirt to make it look just neat enough to be a good employee for the Kmart that he worked at and just messy enough to look like a casual prettyboy who was always, inevitably, _available. _

They must have been waiting for him by the door, and Antonio smiled, glad to see his friends.

"Dude! Where's my main man been the past two days?" Gilbert shouted. Before Antonio could answer, Vash, his boss, appeared.

"Carriedo. You're needed in room seven."

* * *

Antonio swung open the door and sat down on the squashed sofa with a thump, the old springs giving a little squeal in protest. He smiled at his new patient and then abruptly stopped, his smile sliding off his face like water off a duck.

Sitting across from him was the dark-haired man who had saved him the other day.

* * *

_"You!" _the man spat. "What are you doing here?!"

"I work here," Antonio answered. "Now, I need to ask you a few questions. What's your name?"

"Your mom."

"Try again." Antonio was in no mood for hecklers.

"Lovino Vargas." he mumbled eventually.

"That's better. Do you know why you're here?"

"Because I'm a hopeless crazy bastard who's pathetic brother forced me to go here. What kind of a name is _Zwindli _anyway? You some hippie?" Lovino folded his arms and sat back.

Antonio could tell that Lovino was not going to be an easy patient. "It's Zwingli, and that's not me. That's my boss. He's Swiss. However, my name in Antonio Carriedo. It's very nice to meet you," he smiled.

"You're Spanish." Lovino stated. Antonio nodded.

"Now, enough about me. We're here to focus on you. So," Antonio leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "what's going on?"

"Not much."

"Well, obviously _something _happened, or you wouldn't be here."

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Well, apparently I am 'depressed,'" he made quotation marks with his fingers, "and have 'trust issues' and 'social anxiety' and 'anger management problems' and a bunch of other stupid doctor bullshit that is obviously not me. I mean, do I look crazy to you?!"

Antonio's gaze fell upon the younger man, his eyes hovering on his unkempt, curly hair, un-tucked shirt, a bruise around the side of his mouth, which was curled into a frown, his wide eyes and dilated pupils.

"Nope. Not, uh… crazy at all," Antonio lied with a laugh.

"You're lying."

Antonio changed the subject. "So, um, why do you say that you are," he imitated Lovino's quotation gesture, "'depressed' and have 'trust issues' and so on?"

"Because I hate everyone and never leave my home except for work and get into fights often," Lovino tripped over the words, as if they were mere lines he had rehearsed.

"Oh." He took a note on his clipboard, grimacing.

"Yeah, okay, can I leave now?" Lovino stood up. "I really don't think I need to be here, and-"

"Sit down." Lovino stayed standing. "I said, sit _down._" Antonio gestured with his pen to the couch. Slowly the man sat down, rolling his eyes.

Antonio may have been light-spirited and playful in real life, but when it came to his job, his patients came first. And right now, this man looked as if he would need a _lot _of help. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, leaning back.

"If you are depressed, have trust issues, social anxiety, and anger management problems, then yes, you do need to be here, and you are required by law to be provided with adequate treatment. If you would rather that I, your brother, and any other guardian, be fined or tried at the court, then by all means, leave."

Lovino stayed where he was, looking at his scuffed brown leather shoes. Antonio could see that they had once been quite nice, fancy shoes, and then for whatever reason sold or ruined and then bought secondhand, cheaply, but not used very often. For formal occasions, or dressing nicely for someone, he wondered.

Had Lovino worn these for him? To impress him, or dress nicely? And yet, sitting in front of him was a snarling man- no, boy, he couldn't be more that twenty-two, at maximum- arms crossed, eyes glued to feet, like a cowering bull that decided against running and chose to fight.

Antonio surreptitiously checked his watch, hoping Lovino wouldn't notice. Unfortunately, his hopes were not met.

"See, even you can't wait to get rid of me. If you don't want me, then let me leave." He interrupted, an edge to his voice.

"No, no that's not it at all," Antonio said hastily. "It's just I have another patient at 2 pm and its 1:30 now."

"Bullshit. Your boss, Zwindling or Zwingling or whatever, said that you're free until four. So don't try to con me off. I know when someone is lying." Lovino narrowed his eyes and Antonio silently cursed his prudent boss.

Antonio laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "Ah.. it's Tuesday, isn't it? It's Wednesday that I have that patient. Oops, got a little ahead of myself," he said, smiling, looking anywhere but Lovino, who's heavy gaze was starting to scare him.

"I'm your only patient except for old Mrs. Garcia, who never comes because she forgets everything that hasn't happened in the past five minutes. So quit lying, you're pissing me off even more than I already was."

"How.."

"Since I'm such an 'important patient,' Zwingle-berries-whats-his-face gave me your schedule so that if I'm ever in trouble, I can call you and you can "help me," although I don't think there's any point to any of this." Lovino stated simply, the annoyance clear in his voice.

"But.. how did you know about Mrs. Garcia?"

"She's a customer of mine. Can't even remember what she ordered and wants it sent back, saying that spaghetti isn't lemon chicken, when she ordered grilled tilapia."

Ah. That explained it.

"So you cook?" Antonio inquired.

"I'm a waiter, so's my brother. Gramps Roma is the cook."

"Would you like to be anything other than a waiter?" Maybe if he learnt some of Lovino's back story, he could figure out why this guy was such a pisshead and then he could go eat some lunch. Speaking of cooking and lunch, BLT sounded good, with lettuce and ripe, juicy tomatoes…

"Oi." Lovino snapped his fingers in front of Antonio's face and he awoke from his reverie.

"Ah, yes… you were saying?"

"You're not listening."

"I am now," Antonio protested. "You're not being fair."

Lovino scoffed. _"You're _the one not being fair! I'm not paying you so you can daydream or whatever the hell you were just doing!"

Antonio had had enough. His normally sunny disposition was being clouded by this annoying brat and he just wanted to punch him but instead he rose out of his chair, smiled with all his Colgate-advertisement-worthy teeth, and extended his hand.

"The hell you doing?" Lovino demanded.

"I figured since we got off on bad terms, we should redo our meeting and start over." Lovino rolled his eyes but stood up and cautiously took Antonio's hand. Antonio took this as a sign of friendship and shook vigorously, glad to have made some headway.

"Jesus fucking Christ, man," Lovino spurted. "Is that how you normally shake hands? Do you pop people's arms off like Barbies when you do that? God, if that's how you shake hands, imagine handjobs.."

Antonio decided not to take any of Lovino's insults to heart, realizing that for him, insults were probably just some twisted way of communicating compassion. Or something like that. So when Lovino tried (and failed) to insult him, he merely laughed and placed a hand on Lovino's head, ruffling his hair.

"You're a funny guy," he said, still laughing. "Mind if I call you Lovi?"

Lovino smacked his hand away. "No, you may not."

"Alright, Lovi."

"Ugh!"

* * *

So. Here he was again, at that speed dating bar, not knowing exactly why, or even how he had gotten here. Antonio sighed and let his friends drag him into the bar.

He was greeted by an overenthusiastic American in a bartender uniform, yelling "Welcome to planet Mars!" at the top of his lungs, then rushing back to his work station hurriedly. The same extensively-eyebrowed man Antonio had seen before was sitting at the bar, sipping a pint of beer as if it were a cup of tea and watching the American man intently. Francis gaped at him, but the man hadn't noticed him yet.

"Problem?" Antonio asked, but then Francis looked away and shook his head.

"I'll be over there, if you need me," he muttered, and made his way over to the eyebrowed man.

"What the bloody hell are _you _doing here?!" he demanded, and Antonio realized from his accent that he was British. Antonio shrugged and turned to Gilbert, but he was already gone, tapping the shoulder of a brown haired woman who was determinedly ignoring him.

All alone, Antonio made his way to the door quietly, hoping he could leave without his friends noticing. His hand grasped the door handle firmly and turned it when the door slammed in his face, knocking him against the wall.

"Gramps, I _told _you I'm not interested! I don't want to be here, can I just go home, _please_, I don't-" an irritated voice pleaded. Antonio blinked, rubbing his cheek. Wait.. that voice sounded strangely familiar. Antonio slid out from where he was squashed between the door and the wall. In front of him stood a man who looked as if he _should _be old, but had partied too much and had just given up on aging, and Lovino Vargas.

Antonio cursed. It was bad enough he had to put up with that annoying guy at work, now he had to see him in his free time too?! He surreptitiously ducked behind them and tried to leave, but a firm hand grabbed the back of his collar and yanked him back in.

"Where are you going? I haven't apologized to you yet, after my grandson so rudely slammed your face with the door." Gramps- that was what Lovino had called him, right?- said, smiling. "Lovino, apologize." He said harshly, to the dark-haired man standing behind him, looking at his feet and fiddling with his fingers, obviously not wanting to be there at all.

"S-sorry," Lovino apologized, redfaced.

"Good boy," the older man said condescendingly, and patted Lovino on the head like a dog. "What's your name?" he asked, turning to Antonio.

"A-Antonio," he said, stammering, nervous under this old but terrifying man's gaze. Lovino looked up and his face turned an even darker shade of red.

"You! What are _you _doing here?" he demanded, obviously angry.

'Gramps' cocked his head. "You two know each other?"

"I, uh, well… I-" Lovino stuttered. Gramps raised an eyebrow.

"If that's the case, I'll leave you two alone then," he said, and sauntered out the door.

"Wait!" Lovino yelled after him. "Don't leave me alone with this bastard!" But he was already gone.

* * *

Lovino made his way to the bar, Antonio trailing behind him.

"Don't follow me, godammit!" he yelled at him.

"I'm not following you!" Antonio protested. "I just happen to also be going to the bar,"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever.. just leave me alone." He sat down on a bar stool and Antonio looked around for a seat in another place, but the only other seat available was the one next to Lovino. He cursed under his breath and sat down.

"I thought I told you to leave me alone," Lovino said harshly.

"I will. I'm just going to sit here, and we won't talk, and you'll pretend I don't exist and I'll pretend you don't exist ,and we'll order our drinks and sit in silence. That sound okay?" Antonio said wearily. He was tired and worn out and didn't feel like fighting anyone.

To his surprise, Lovino nodded. "One martini please," he said to the bartender, who looked up from the glass he was cleaning and grinned. Antonio noticed that he was the same enthusiastic bartender who had that one strand of hair standing straight up. Antonio recalled that when he was speed dating, the eyebrowed man had called him… Alfred, right?

"Fancy," Antonio commented. Lovino shot him a look.

"I thought we weren't speaking."

"We are now."

Lovino sighed and leaned back. "There's no use arguing with you, huh?"

"Yup." Antonio smiled brightly at him.

"But I can still try, right?"

"Huh?" Antonio opened his eyes.

"First off: you smell weird and you should take a shower. Also your shirt is untucked and you've got spaghetti sauce on your collar,"

Lovino leaned in and sniffed Antonio's chest, his hair tickling Antonio's chin. Antonio felt his heart speed up, a thumping in his chest he couldn't explain. Then he leaned out and the moment stopped.

"No, it's lasagna sauce. Definitely lasagna." Lovino continued, as if nothing had happened. "Second, your nose is off center and one of your molars is crooked and your breath stinks, you should buy some Listerine or something, it smells like you fit a whole brothel in there, which you probably have. Next, your hair is messy and one of your shoes is untied and you seem like a total douchebag who is way too happy about _every little thing._" Lovino paused for breath and Antonio held a finger to his lips before he could start up again.

"Wha-have you been _observing _me?" he inquired.

"_No, _I just noticed that you were an incredibly.." Lovino paused, his eyes flickering over Antonio's face, as Antonio held his breath, "_messy _person."

"So you're some Sherlock guy, then?"

"No." Lovino pointed his thumb behind him to where the eyebrowed man was sitting, blushing furiously and trying to maintain focus on a book while Francis sat next to him, playing with his hair and jokingly flirting with him. "_He _is."

"Martini for his lordship?" Alfred appeared at the counter holding a Lovino's drink. He bowed deeply and ostentatiously, pretending to be a fancy butler instead of a slightly annoying bartender, and then tripped, slipping forward, as the martini flew from his hand and the contents of the little glass spilt all over Lovino's shirt.

He looked down at his dripping wet shirt, as his teeth clenched into a snarl.

"Oops. Sorry," Alfred laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, smiling awkwardly. "My bad,"

"You'll pay for that, you ba-" Lovino started to yell, before Antonio clapped a hand over his mouth so as not to create a scene.

"Come on, I'll take you home, let's just not attract attention, okay?" he whispered.

Lovino blushed and then, to Antonio's surprise, bit his hand covering his mouth. Antonio yelped and pulled away quickly.

"What'd you do that for?" he whined.

"Like _hell _you're taking me home! I'm not just some cheap floozy like Elephant Woman!"

"Elephant woman?" Antonio started to ask, but then realized what he was talking about. "You mean- can you not- I thought that was a secret-" he stuttered, painfully aware of how big a fool he would look if everyone found out about that unfortunate incident.

Lovino grinned, an evil glint in his eye. "That's right. If you don't leave me alone, I'll tell everyone about _her." _

Slowly Antonio nodded. Lovino got up and left the bar coolly without turning back.


	3. Chapter 3

The bell on the door rung, signaling that a customer was here. Sighing, he folded his magazine and started to get up, but then realized he didn't have to as Lovino and his younger, lighter-haired brother burst in.

"I _told _you, it's a waste of time, I don't want to-" Lovino protested, looking down, as the younger sibling forcefully tugged him in.

"Sorry about my brother, he didn't want to come but I made him, especially after last night- ow! That hurts!" he cried as Lovino pinched his ear. "Stop, that hurts, I surrender, I surrender, ow, Lovi.." The lighter haired boy whined, tearing up.

Antonio smacked Lovino's hand away. "Last night? What happened last night?" He inquired, curious. _Shit, I should have taken him home last night, even if he didn't want me to, _he thought.

"My brother got in another fight aga-OW! That really hurts, please, I won't say anymore, _please.."_Lovino's younger brother sobbed. Antonio grabbed Lovino's wrist and pried it away from his ear.

"Lovi, come into the room," he turned to Lovino's brother, "and you, uh.."

"Feli-Feliciano," he sniffed, wiping his eyes.

"Yeah, Feliciano. You can go home. I'll take care of your brother now, 'kay?" Antonio said reassuringly. Feliciano smiled at him.

"Thanks, sir!"

Antonio grabbed a piece of candy from the little bowl by the counter. "Here, want a lollipop?" Antonio felt Lovino tense up, his whole body shaking. Feliciano nodded and took the brightly colored candy from his hand and left, the bell hanging from the door jingling. Still holding onto Lovino's wrist, Antonio asked, "You all right?"

Lovino said nothing.

"You want a lollipop too?" he asked, smiling. Lovino's fists clenched, his arm taught. He pulled away from Antonio's grip, but he was still shaking. It was beginning to scare Antonio. "Lovino, look at me." he commanded, but Lovino still just stared at his feet. "Lovino," he said again, and when he didn't respond he used his index finger to lift up Lovino's face and bring it to his.

Antonio gasped. Several bruises marred Lovino's face, with a black eye and a nose that looked broken, a little white plaster stuck over it.

"My office. Now." He said, seriousness present in his normally joyful tone. Lovino said nothing and didn't move, as if rooted to the spot. Antonio grabbed his hand and tugged him into the office and closed the door behind him. He pointed to the couch. "Sit." Lovino sat down and Antonio sat also, across from him in his usual chair. He threaded his fingers and rested his chin on his elbows, which were leaning on his knees. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

Lovino looked away. "I got in a fight. What more do you want?" he spat.

"There's more than that. _Why _did you get in a fight? With who? What were the circumstances?"

"I was just a little pissed off at this guy," he said eventually.

Antonio examined his bruised face. "That looks like more than 'a little pissed off,' don't you think?" Lovino said nothing. Antonio sighed. "Who was this guy?"

"Just someone who had been.. harassing me."

"Why didn't you go to the police?" Antonio asked, exasperated. Lovino shook his head.

"They wouldn't help,"

"Why not?"

"They wouldn't- we're not- I- we're not on good terms," Lovino said eventually.

Antonio rubbed his forehead with his palms. "You got in a fight with one of them too," he stated.

"No, he wasn't one of the guys, but I'm not exactly the most legal person around," Lovino said simply.

_"Guys? _I thought you said one guy! There was more than one?!"

Lovino opened his mouth and then closed it. Slowly he nodded.

"Why were these guys harassing you?"

"I'm not…" Lovino searched for the right words, "..what I used to be." Antonio frowned.

"What do you mean by that?"

Lovino shook his head. "Doesn't matter. They thought that I was… still open and when I said no, they jumped me." He said.

"Yes, it does matter! What do you mean, 'still open?' I don't get you," Antonio protested.

"Good."

* * *

Antonio left the session feeling thoroughly confused. All he had been able to get out of Lovino was that a bunch of guys jumped him and beat him up. Lovino had slipped out eagerly as if he had wanted nothing more than to leave, which, Antonio guessed, he probably had.

But what did he mean, "not what I used to be?" That didn't make any sense…

* * *

"I just don't get him," Antonio complained over a bottle of beer at the same bar he had been last night with his friends. Francis patted his back comfortingly.

"It's just a job. He's just a job. Once he's better, you can go on and resume your life of… what were you even doing anyway?" Francis said thoughtfully, scratching his stubble-ridden chin.

"Sleeping, mostly," Gilbert cut in. "After getting totally wasted with us, which reminds me, we haven't done that for a while and a friend is throwing a party tonight. You in?"

Antonio lifted his head, his cheek sticky from where it had been resting on the counter. "Which friend?"

"The gay one," Gilbert suggested.

"Oh, that really narrows it down, Gilbert." Francis rolled his eyes. "Which one?"

"You know, the blond one? Loud? Kind of a prat?"

"I'd say it was you, but you're not blond." Antonio said.

"Feliks! That's it! Feliks!" Gilbert said loudly. Francis smacked him gently upside the head.

"You're too loud. We're in a public place where people are trying desperately to get in each other's pants, we have to respect that," Francis scolded. "Especially if they're trying to get in my pants," he added.

"I want a banana," Antonio complained, plopping his head down on the counter again. Francis winked.

"You can have _my _banana, sweetheart," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Only if its yellow, mushy, and grows on trees in South America," Antonio clarified.

"Oh."

"Are you guys coming to the party or not?!" Gilbert demanded.

"Only if there are bananas there."


	4. Chapter 4

Antonio stepped into the cavern of noise and lights, feeling slightly overwhelmed at the abundance of people there, many of whom he did not recognize. He filled one of those red plastic party cups with the unidentified but obviously alcoholic beverage on the table and took a swig, grimacing as the hard alcohol hit his tongue. He swallowed and took another gulp, hoping that would improve the taste. It didn't.

Whatever. It didn't really matter what it tasted like, he just wanted to get drunk and forget about Lovino and have a good time with his friends and possibly get laid. He turned around and nearly bumped into Francis, who had seemingly materialized behind him.

"When did you get he-" he started to ask, but stopped when Francis laid a finger on his lips.

"Still trying to get laid?" he whispered. Antonio nodded.

"There's a cute guy in the next room who's all alone. Maybe you could cheer him up.." Francis suggested with a smile and then sneaked away. Antonio turned the corner and headed into the room next to him. He plopped down in the empty seat on the couch and turned to greet the person next to him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Lovino demanded

* * *

"I, uh, I was invited. By Feliks." Antonio said dumbly. "What are _you _doing here?"

Lovino scowled. "I live a block or so away from here. I came to ask if they could keep the noise down and somehow I got roped in to staying here and they won't let me leave."

Antonio nodded. "Sounds like something he would do."

"Who even is Feliks?" Lovino asked, but his question was answered as a flamboyantly dressed man in a regular suit with a pink tie, heels, and feather boa strutted into the room.

"Everyone enjoying the party?" he said, and everyone in the room cheered like they were a bunch of young adults at a concert. "That's great! There's drinks in the kitchen, and the stereo is over there. Have a great time!" he exclaimed, and walked out, pulling an awkward looking brown haired man with him.

"That was Feliks." Antonio said after he had left. Lovino groaned.

"When does this party end?" he asked.

"Knowing Feliks, probably not till next week," Antonio stated. Lovino groaned again. Antonio yawned. The alcohol he had consumed earlier was starting to take its toll on him; he was beginning to get sleepy. He felt himself slumping to the side and began to lean heavily on Lovino, his head resting on Lovino's shoulder.

"H-Hey!" he stammered, shaking Antonio off. "I'm not your fucking pillow!"

"But you're so comfortable.." Antonio mumbled, his eyelids feeling like lead. Lovino didn't answer. Antonio opened one eye and was surprised to see he was blushing profusely, his face beet red. Antonio was too tired to care, though, and closed his eye and soon fell asleep.

* * *

He was woken by Lovino shaking him roughly.

"Get up."

"Hnnn?" Antonio asked, stretching.

"We have to get out of here," Lovino said, sounding like a frightened little child. Antonio looked up and saw a man with a bruise on one cheek and long hair and a leather jacket walking in. He looked to Lovino for answers but Lovino only pulled him up and attempted to exit hastily, pressing to the wall as if he was trying to not be seen.

The long-haired man reached out and grabbed Lovino's wrist tightly. He tried to pull away, but couldn't.

"Where you going, sweetcheeks?" he asked with a voice that sounded of booze and sand, coarse and gritty.

"Leave me alone," Lovino muttered. Antonio rubbed his eyes, wondering what was going on. How did Lovino know this weird biker dude? The man glanced over at Antonio.

"Who's cutie here? Another customer?"

_Customer? _

"No." Lovino mumbled, trying to break out of the man's grip, but he only tightened his hold on Lovino's wrist.

"Boyfriend?"

_"No! _He's no one of consequence. I don't even know him," Lovino said. Antonio saw that even though Lovino was trying to keep his cool, he was obviously terrified of this man, trembling like a mouse.

"So there shouldn't be a problem then. Is this enough?" the man pulled a fifty dollar bill from his pocket and handed it over.

_"Leave. Me. Alone." _Lovino said through gritted teeth. "I don't do that anymore."

"What, you want more? Alright, you greedy little bastard, you can have seventy. That good?"

"I don't want your money. Just let me go," Lovino protested. Antonio watched this exchange, sleep and alcohol still fogging his brain. What was happening here?

The man relinquished his grasp on Lovino's wrist. He rubbed his wrist sourly, red marks from where the man's thick fingers had held his fragile bone showing up against his pale skin.

Lovino glared at him and then turned to leave. The long haired man watched him go, amused. As Lovino began to walk away, the man reached out and-

Did he just _grab_ Lovino's _ass?!_

Lovino swiveled and kneed the grinning man straight in the crotch. He doubled over in pain and Lovino kicked him in the stomach. Antonio stepped forward.

"Stop-" he began to yell, but the man had gotten up and grabbed Lovino by the collar, slamming him against the wall. Lovino slid down the wall and collapsed on the ground. The man kicked him in the head, then the stomach. He tried to get up, stumbling, and was knocked into the wall again and again. Lovino's head made a sick cracking noise against the plaster wall. The man, still holding his collar prepared to slam him into the dented wall yet another time, but Antonio dove between them.

"What are you doing? Stop!" he yelled at the man, who only glared at Antonio. He let go of Lovino's collar and he tumbled to the ground. Antonio stooped to pick him up but Lovino swatted him away.

"Get off. I'm fine," he mumbled, blood staining the side of his mouth. He picked himself off the floor and made a stumbling step towards the door, limping.

Antonio rushed forward and put Lovino's arm over his shoulder and supported him, looking quickly back at the long haired man who was watching them go. Antonio helped Lovino get over to the elevator so he could get down to the first floor of the building- Feliks lived in a very large apartment complex. Once inside, Lovino rested against the wall, arms behind him holding onto the bar for support.

"What was that?" Antonio asked.

Lovino shook his head. "Nothing."

Antonio crossed his arms. "I'm not in the mood for bullshit. What was that." He stated the question pointedly, emphasizing each word so it wasn't so much a question as a command.

Lovino wiped his bloody mouth with the back of his hand. "Doesn't concern you."

Antonio slammed his hand against the wall next to Lovino's head, towering over him. "You just got beaten up by that creepy biker dude and I had to save you. Yeah, it does concern me, one, I'm your therapist, and two, I want to know what the fuck is going on."

"I'm tired, okay? Just let me go home. I don't want to talk about it," Lovino muttered.

"Fine. But you have to let me take you home," Antonio compromised. Lovino looked up.

"No! I can get there fine by myself!"

"You could barely get to the elevator, even with me. I'm taking you home," Antonio insisted.

"You don't need to take me home. It's not a big deal," he protested.

"Yeah, it is a big deal! Some random guy just beat you up! How is that _not _a big deal?!"

"I'm used to it, okay, I can handle it. I can get by fine on my own," Lovino said stubbornly. The elevator beeped to announce that they had hit the first floor. The doors opened with a ding and Lovino made several limping steps outside before he collapsed again.

"No, you can't. Come here, I'm taking you home, and that's final." Antonio reached out his hand for Lovino to take but he just got up slowly and painfully, without Antonio's help. He stumbled again and Antonio grabbed him round the middle so he didn't fall again. Lovino swatted his hands away.

"I _said, _I don't need your help!"

"Either I'm taking you to the police station and we're getting this sorted out, or I'm taking you home. Which do you prefer?" Antonio asked harshly. He didn't want to have to be mean or rough with Lovino, but he had to get him to cooperate somehow.

Lovino opened his mouth, then closed it again. After hesitating for a moment, he agreed, "Fine. Take me home."

Antonio nodded. "Can you walk?" Lovino nodded and took a few tentative steps. He stumbled and Antonio grabbed him and lifted him up into a bridal hold, surprised at how little he weighed.

"W-What do you think you're doing?!" Lovino seethed. "Put me down!"

"I'm taking you home. What was your address again?"

"I-I-I-" Lovino sputtered.

"Fine, just tell me how to get there."

* * *

Antonio let Lovino down outside his apartment. It wasn't exactly in the good part of town, and he was seriously beginning to wonder what Lovino's lifestyle was like. Did this happen on a regular basis, or was that just some random drunk who was looking for a fight?

Watching Lovino fiddle with the many, many locks on his door, Antonio guessed that this happened more often than Lovino let on. After all, hadn't Feliciano said earlier that day that Lovino "got in another fight again"? And Lovino said that he was used to this… what was Lovino's life like? What had he been 'earlier'?

Lovino finished with the final lock and the door creaked open. He took a step in and began to close the door but Antonio grabbed the door with his hand and kept it open.

"I'm staying," he said. He expected Lovino to argue, to push him out, but to his surprise, Lovino looked out, making sure no one but Antonio was there, and then nodded, beckoning for him to come in. Antonio stepped over the threshold and Lovino closed the door behind him, locking and bolting all the different locks on the door.

Lovino flopped down on a tired couch, which squealed in protest. "Do you have a bathroom?" Antonio asked. Lovino pointed to a small door to the side. Antonio entered and turned on the light, seeing cockroaches scuttle away at the flick of the switch. There was a bathtub and shower next to a toilet and Antonio turned on the water, letting it get hot. He walked out of the bathroom.

"Take off your clothes."

_"What?" _Lovino screeched. He got off the couch and stomped angrily to Antonio, but he stumbled and fell into Antonio's arms, head pressed against his chest. He could hear the thumping of Antonio's heart, steady and rhythmic, and could feel Antonio's arms around him, holding him in tight.

_I could fall asleep like this.._ Lovino thought, finding peace and calm in Antonio's accidental embrace. Then he remembered who he was and who he used to be, and knew he didn't deserve this. He pulled away, red-faced, stepped out of Antonio's arms. He felt a pain in his chest, as if his heart were protesting. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and sat heavily on the couch again, burying his face in his hands.

"Lo-Lovino?"

That voice. _Don't touch me, _Lovino thought, _Stay away. _And yet, part of him wanted Antonio to comfort him, to touch him and hold him in his arms and to say everything would be okay when it obviously wasn't, to love him, and not in the physical way, to love him truly like no one ever had.

_No. No, I can't let that happen. He doesn't like you. You don't deserve him, you don't deserve love. Nobody ever loved you and nobody ever will. I thought you knew that already. You should be dead._

"Lovino," Antonio said softly. He sat down on the couch next to him and rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. He was surprised to see that his shoulders were shaking, that his body was convoluting with sobs.

He leaned in and wrapped his arms around the younger man, holding him in tight, Lovino's curls tickling his chin. He was even more surprised when shaky hands reached around his back and hugged him back, returning the embrace, pulling him in closer. Small hands gripped the fabric of Antonio's shirt, petite fingernails digging into his skin. Lovino's body shook, and Antonio felt tears wet the front of his shirt, but he didn't mind. Lovino was what mattered right now.

He looked up. The water for the bath was still running. "Shit," he cursed, and broke the embrace and left hastily, leaving Lovino alone, weeping, on the dilapidated couch.


	5. Chapter 5

_Previously_

_He looked up. The water for the bath was still running. "Shit," he cursed, and broke the embrace and left hastily, leaving Lovino alone, weeping, on the dilapidated couch._

* * *

"Bath's ready," Antonio called from the bathroom.

"I don't want to take a bath," Lovino groaned. "Besides, you're here."

"Then wear swimming trunks," Antonio replied merrily.

"How about no."

"I'm going to have to help you in the bath, you know. He beat you up pretty bad,"

"I don't care."

"I do. Take your bath or I'll…uh… hold on a sec, let me think of something, uh," Antonio said, trailing off.

"Fine, Jesus, I'll take your goddamn bath. Just hold on a sec," Lovino shouted. He quickly changed into swimming trunks and, arms crossed, feeling self-conscious, stepped into the bathroom.

"Your swimsuit has flowers on it." Antonio pointed.

Lovino glared at him. "Yeah. I know." He gingerly stepped in the bath and sat, basking in the warmth.

"God," Antonio whispered, staring at Lovino's half-naked form.

"What?" he snapped, looking up.

"He really got you good," Antonio said. Lovino looked down. His shoulders and collarbone could have been better, maybe his black eye and nose and now mouth weren't doing so well, and perhaps his arms and legs were more than a little tattooed with purple, blue, black, and even sickly yellow in areas, but he wasn't _that _bad, at least for his standards.

"Your back," Antonio simply stated. Lovino twisted his head to look around. From what he could see over his shoulder and reflected in the mirror, it looked as if his back was almost completely covered in spread out circlets of purplish-black, a few cuts from the splintering plaster, oozing red blood. He grimaced.

"Can you get the soap?" he asked.

Antonio nodded. "Where is it? Is it in here?" he started poking around under the sink.

"No, I'll get it." Lovino stood up, putting weight on his left leg, and then fell to the ground on top of Antonio. God, this day couldn't get any worse, could it? He pushed himself off of Antonio, who lay there astonished, and tried to stand up again, but found he couldn't, as he collapsed to the ground again, a wet mess.

"Godammit," he cursed, inspecting his leg. It was hurting more than the other leg, and the knee was bent sideways at a weird angle. "I think it's broken," he said to himself, inspecting the bruises around the kneecap. Antonio leaned over and ran a hand over Lovino's leg.

_He shaves, _Antonio realized. He had very feminine, smooth legs, thin, and shapely too. He felt like he was handling silk. He leaned closer and inspected Lovino's kneecap and the bruises.

"It's just dislocated," he said after a moment. "Lift your leg a little bit." Lovino did as he was told, confused. Antonio placed one hand on each side of Lovino's leg and quickly, without warning, tilted his hands to the side and snapped the joint back in place, a loud cracking noise resounding along with a sharp yelp of pain from Lovino.

"You okay?"

"Hell no I'm not okay!" Lovino snapped. "You just fucking cracked my leg or whatever without even telling me! That fucking hurt!"

"For someone who says getting slammed against a wall repeatedly is no problem, I find it hard to believe that you can't handle relocating limbs." Antonio replied smoothly. Lovino flushed a deep shade of red. Antonio nodded towards the bathtub. "Get back in the tub."

Lovino shakily stood up and limped out, returning a moment later with some hand soap. "Hand soap? Really? You don't have anything else?" Antonio inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Either that or dishwashing soap."

Antonio sighed. Lovino stepped back into the tub and sat down, bony knees protruding out of the water. "Hand me the soap."

He rubbed some on his hand and then stretched his arm back towards his back, wincing. It was just beyond his nose that he stopped. "I can't get it to go back any further."

"You're sore from that wall. How'd you even know him? Guy was a monster." Antonio commented. He looked at Lovino. He had obviously struck the wrong cord, he had looked away quickly but Antonio saw that his expression was pained and severe.

"None of your business," he mumbled eventually. Antonio had the feeling now wasn't the time to pry, so instead he rubbed some soap on his hands and then applied them to Lovino's purple back. He stiffened immediately and a small whimper escaped his lips.

"You okay?"

Lovino nodded. "It stings."

"Oh." Antonio went and wet a washcloth and then put a small amount of soap in that. He dabbed Lovino's back for him, hoping there wasn't as much discomfort as there had been before. When he was done, he dried Lovino off and helped him get into bed. Once he was settled with some blankets and some aspirin, Antonio left, closing the door behind him.

* * *

He found it hard to sleep that night, remembering how Lovino had shaken and wept in his arms like a little child, how his body was bruised and many, Antonio could tell, were not just from his encounter that night. This happened more than once, regularly.

Just what was Lovino hiding from him?

* * *

Antonio got up the next morning earlier than normal. He walked into the kitchen, yawning, and was surprised to find Colin already sitting at the counter, dressed, with a cup of coffee.

"Colin?" he asked, rubbing sleep dust from his eyes.

"I'm leaving."

"What?"

"I'm moving in with someone else. You can keep the apartment, but you'll have to pay for it from now on. Either that or go scrounge off someone else," he said calmly, sipping his coffee. Antonio stared blankly at him. "You have twenty-four hours to find a new flatmate for either here or someone else's apartment, or else I'll sign the lease and they'll sell it to someone else."

"Couldn't you have told me sooner?" Antonio complained.

Colin shrugged. "Couldn't be bothered. Besides, you have plenty of friends and you barely even work, so it shouldn't be that hard." Antonio groaned.

"Yes, it could."

Colin unfolded the newspaper. "Not my problem."

* * *

Antonio went into work that day but Lovino never showed up. Worried, Antonio tried his apartment, but no one answered. Discouraged, he found himself wandering into the same Starbucks where he had met Henrietta, ordering a coffee and sipping it, accidentally walking out of the wrong exit into that same old alleyway. He turned to exit when he heard a familiar voice up the road.

"Lovino, you have to tell me what really happened!" A high, thin wavery voice protested.

"I said, I fell down the stairs." Lovino's voice, harsh and forced. He wasn't a very good liar.

"We both know that's not true. We're worried about you!"

"Don't be. I'm fine," Lovino insisted to his teary-eyed little brother.

"You have bruises all over your face. How is that fine?!"

"Just leave me alone. You have people to serve, okay?" Lovino said.

"But-"

"I promise I won't do anything and nothing will happen to me. Look," Lovino said softly, gently in a tone of voice Antonio hadn't heard before. "when this is over, we'll play soccer just like we used to in the park, when we were kids."

Feliciano sniffled. "Promise?"

Lovino smiled roughly. "Yeah. Pinky promise." They hooked pinky fingers. Feliciano let go, waved, and trotted back into the restaurant. Lovino sighed and fumbled in his pocket, bringing out a cigarette and lighter. He lit the cigarette and brought it to his mouth, inhaling and then exhaling a puff of smoke. He untied the waiter's apron and tossed it to the side, unbuttoned the top of his collar and slumped off.

Antonio looked around to make sure no one was watching and trotted after him, keeping his distance behind Lovino so that he wasn't spotted. Lovino crossed the street, heading into the neighborhood where he lived in his small apartment.

As the road got narrower, and the cracks in the cement and graffiti became more numerous, as the broken beer bottles by the side of the road next to sprouting dandelions, poking up through the suffocating concrete grew in count, Antonio followed.

He expected Lovino to stop at his apartment, but to his surprise he carried on walking, tossing aside his used up cigarette stub, hands in his pockets. He finally came to a stop at a broken down shack, half burnt down, black soot staining the remains of the old trailer. He stood in front of the small construction for a couple minutes, Antonio watching from behind a wall.

Lovino stood staring for a minute, his back to Antonio. Suddenly he stooped down and picked up a rock and hurled it at the abandoned trailer.

"Fuck!" he said loudly. He grabbed another piece of rubble and pitched it at the empty vehicle. "Fuck you!" The rubble bounced against the rusting metal outside, leaving a tiny dent. "You-fucking-"

"Lovino?" Antonio stepped out from behind the wall.

Lovino jumped and turned, a rock in his ready hand.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I followed you."

"That's fucking creepy as fuck! Get out!" he hurled the rock at Antonio, who ducked. It sailed past his head and through a glass window, a crashing noise audible as broken glass littered the floor.

"You're paying for that," Antonio commented, smiling. Lovino scowled.

"Why are you here?"

"I said, I followed you," Antonio replied. "You didn't show up to therapy today so I went to your apartment, but you weren't there. I went to a Starbucks and saw you in the alleyway and decided to follow you. I was just worried about you."

"Worried? About _me?" _Lovino scoffed. "Yeah, right."

"No, really. After last night, who wouldn't be worried?"

Lovino looked away. "Lots of people."

"Why not?"

Lovino's fists clenched. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But you should, it'll make you feel better. Carrying all that anger inside isn't good. One day you'll burst," Antonio said.

"How would _you _know?" Lovino snarled. "You're always so fucking happy, smile smile smile all the time you don't notice anything! You're such an idiot! How would you know what anger or true pain is if you haven't endured it, haven't seen and felt things beyond your comprehension?!"

Antonio just smiled. "You're right. I am an idiot, and I don't know what pain and anger really feels like. I won't try to understand you. I won't try to feel your pain. I'll just listen,"

Expressions flickered across Lovino's face like a movie screen- anger, disdain, and sorrow reflected in his eyes. He looked so.. sad, so open and raw for just a moment Antonio couldn't stand it.

He rushed forward and threw his arms around the younger man, holding him tightly against his chest. Lovino sputtered and flailed with his arms, as if trying to escape, but Antonio squeezed tighter.

He felt Lovino tense up and pulled away.

"What's wrong?"

Lovino just shook his head, saying nothing. Eventually he spoke:

"It's nothing. I'm just going to go home," he fixed Antonio with a pointed glare, "_you _should go home too." He turned on his heel and started walking quickly away. Antonio stared after him for a minute, and then jogged up to meet him. Lovino's speed increased.

"Hey, wait! Let me take you home!" he called. Lovino sped up into a jog. Antonio jogged beside him and Lovino sped up again, breaking into a run and then a sprint as Antonio continued to pursue him.

Antonio decided he was not going to lose to Lovino. He willed himself to move faster and he did, his legs flying. He caught up with Lovino and was surprised to see that Lovino was.. smiling?

This was the first time he had seen Lovino smile, Antonio realized. A real, happy smile, that he was enjoying himself. Antonio felt his heart speed up, not by a lot, but enough that he could notice it, enough that he could realize that this wasn't due to the running.

* * *

Lovino sped on, not even noticing the grin spread across his lips. He hadn't run like this in so long, hadn't felt so _free _and good and energized since.. when?

He realized that he no longer heard Antonio's clumsy footsteps behind him and stopped. He turned around and saw Antonio bent over, hands on his knees, panting heavily. Lovino jogged over to him. Antonio looked up at him, a droplet of sweat on his forehead.

Lovino held out his hand to help Antonio up. Antonio took it gratefully and got up. Lovino began running again, Antonio still in his grip, tugging him along with him. A laugh escaped Lovino's lips, light and nimble.

They reached his small apartment. Antonio let go of Lovino's hand, not realizing until then that he had held it the whole time. They stood awkwardly for a moment on the landing, and then Antonio turned and walked down the stairs to the ground, waving a simple goodbye. Lovino watched until he was gone, then turned and began unlocking the door.

It swung open easily, and Lovino realized with a jolt that it was unlocked.

He was sure he had locked it before he had left.

He pulled a small mini-can of pepper spray out of his back pocket and stepped slowly into his apartment.

"Hello son." Lovino jumped at the noise and turned to where it had come from. The color slowly drained from his face when he saw who was sitting on the couch.

"Dad?"


	6. Chapter 6

"It's been a while," he said, getting up off the couch and walking over to Lovino. He held out his hand but Lovino didn't take it.

"What are you doing here?" he said after a moment, stunned.

His father grinned, yellow crooked teeth showing. "Ten years go by fast, huh?"

"No, but- why here? How did you even know where I live, you don't have rights, I can get a restraining order-"

"But you won't, will you?" Lovino's father grinned.

"Why me? You hated me. Why are you here now?" Lovino spat.

A vein in his father's forehead bulged. "That's not any way to speak to your father." Lovino stared defiantly at him.

"You never learn do you?" he said lazily. "I wonder if I'll have to teach you again." What color had returned to Lovino's face left now, his eyes wide and disbelieving.

"You wouldn't," he said, hoping that what he said was true. His father let out a small laugh of ridicule.

"I don't know. Care to find out?" He drew his fist back and plunged it in Lovino's face- or rather, where his face had been moments ago, as his fist burst through the wall. Lovino slid down the wall, his bruises from the day before excruciating from the friction of the hard wall as he collapsed on the floor. Lovino got up from his position ducked on the floor and scampered out the door, running down the stairs.

His father watched him go, watched his eldest son flee from him with terror and hatred, and sighed. He had had a chance to make things right, he was going to show him he was a changed man, but as soon as that kid turned up he turned into a monster.

Why?

* * *

Lovino ran, again, but not for fun; out of fear. He ran to the small Italian restaurant where he worked and burst in, charging toward Feliciano. Feliciano screeched, dropping the plate of pasta he was handing to a customer. Lovino grabbed him and ran outside into the park across the road.

* * *

Antonio looked up from the bench where he had been dozing off in the park. He didn't feel like going home, not yet, and had chosen to instead loll in the park across from Lovino's workplace. It was a generally quiet and peaceful place, and so when he heard loud complaints he opened his eyes lazily, seeing in surprise Lovino and his little brother.

"He's back," he heard Lovino say, panicked.

"Who?" his brother asked.

Lovino hesitated. "Dad," he finally said. Feliciano gasped.

"How do you know?"

"He got into my apartment," Lovino shaking his head.

"But isn't he-"

"In jail?" Lovino finished. "Yes, that's what I thought. But he got ten years. It's been ten years, Feli."

Antonio studied the worried expressions on the brothers' faces: Lovino's, gritty and determined, and Feliciano's, terrified out of his mind.

"Did he..?" Feliciano asked. Lovino shook his head.

"No."

Feliciano breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank god," he exclaimed.

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing, Lovi?!" Roma demanded, storming over the grass. He stood close to Lovino and stretched his full height over him, glaring at him menacingly. Lovino glared back until Feliciano waved his hand in front of Roma's face, temporarily distracting him.

"What is it, Feli?" he asked in a much softer tone.

"Dad's back," Lovino said. The effect was instantaneous: Grandpa Roma took a few steps backwards, his eyes wide. He held a hand to his mouth. "He got into my apartment. It's been ten years. He got let out." Lovino continued.

"Are you okay?" Roma asked, seemingly having trouble forming the words. Lovino nodded.

"I'm fine. But he's in my apartment, I need somewhere to stay, can you-"

"No." Roma shook his head. "Absolutely not."

"Please, I won't do anything, I promise, I'll be good," Lovino protested, but Roma was adamant. He turned to his brother. "Feliciano?"

Feliciano shook his head. "I can't, I'm living with.. someone else at the moment. Sorry," he apologized. Lovino stared at him agape.

"Not you too.." he said, dumbfounded.

"Sorry," he said again, hanging his head.

"Where the hell am I supposed to stay?!" Lovino demanded, looking angry.

Antonio remembered his talk with Colin that morning- he had to find a new flatmate. Could this be his lucky break?

He stood up and walked over to where Lovino was standing. "You could stay with me,"

Lovino turned to him, astonished. "What the hell are you doing here? Were you listening in on us?!" he yelled. Antonio smiled.

"Yes, I was," he said. "But how about it? You could stay with me," he suggested. "I need a new flatmate."

"Lovino?" Roma interrupted. "Who is this man?"

"I'm his therapist, sir," Antonio said kindly. Roma nodded for a second, digesting the information.

"That's fine with me," he said. He looked back at Lovino. "You run along with Feli for a moment. I want to talk with this man."

"Gramps, I can handle this-" Lovino began, but stopped when Roma shot him a stern look. "C'mon, Feli," he said, and the two boys ran off.

"You're Antonio, right?" Roma asked.

"How did you know?"

"He complains about you a lot."

"Oh." Antonio hung his head.

"Don't be discouraged. It's his twisted way of showing affection," Roma laughed. They stood in silence for a minute.

"He used to beat them, you know," Roma informed him. Antonio looked up.

"Their father." He nodded towards Lovino and Feliciano, Feliciano skipping happily while Lovino walked behind him, downcast, hands in his pockets. Even when he was scared, there was so much happiness in Feliciano. But Lovino- Antonio couldn't tell what he was thinking, what emotions were going through his head right now.

"But Lovino got it worse. He hated Lovino and did everything he could to make him believe that he was lower than dirt." Roma sat down on the bench with a sigh and Antonio sat next to him, stunned.

"The worst part was that Lovi believed him," he said after a moment. "That's why they are the way they are- Feliciano is scared of everything and Lovino is brash and quick to fight and more scared than he lets on,"

"I'm sorry," Antonio said, not really knowing what else he could say. 'I'm sorry that your grandson used to get beat up by his dad?' He didn't think so.

"Their mother wasn't much better. She- she drank, while their father was out at work. She was supposed to do the chores, and when she spent the afternoon passed out with the bottle, chores undone, and came home, they fought and argued and yelled.

"So Feliciano started doing little chores around the house, you know, trying to make it easier for her. But that just encouraged more laziness and more drinking and eventually Feli was doing all the chores while mumsie had him twisted around her little finger.

When _he _came home and found out it was Feli all along, he got really pissed. Tried slamming his fist in Feliciano's face, but Lovi stepped in the way. Things continued, her twisting Feli this way and that and him beating Lovi. I didn't know how to stop it, how to help, so I just left them alone."

"Well, I'm partly to blame," Roma said, looking at the sky now turning orange and pink, streaked with cotton-candy clouds. Antonio looked up questioningly.

"I.. disappeared for a while. Left my daughter, their mother, on her own. Even before I left, I was a terrible father- I drank, flirted with women shamelessly in front of my wife; I was a terrible role model. My daughter ran away while I was gone. When I came back, she was married to that son of a bitch, so drunk she didn't even know or care what her husband was doing to the kids. I figured there was nothing I could do, so I left them alone." Roma looked at Antonio sadly. "I knew what was happening there, in that small trailer. But I let it happen," he buried his face in his hands.

Antonio patted his back awkwardly. Still hunched over, Roma continued.

"Finally their father got sent to prison. Their mother was given child support, which she spent on drink. I only had enough money and room to take one child off her hands. I chose Feliciano," Roma said.

"Why Feliciano?" Antonio asked.

"I liked him better. He was happier, full of life, smiling even though it must have hurt. Lovino… well, he was loud, annoying, rash, impudent.." Roma cleared his throat. "You get what I mean."

Antonio nodded.

"I took Feliciano but Lovino stayed with his mother. This was when Feliciano was eleven and Lovino was thirteen. I don't know what happened at that trailer for the nine years that I was gone, but something changed Lovino. Every morning he shows up to work with fresh bruises, always saying he got into a fight with random people for no reason, but I can't help but think that there _is _a reason, that there's something he's hiding,"

Roma looked up at Antonio. "Do you have any idea what's going on with him?"

Stunned, Antonio shook his head. "No, sir."

"I visited their trailer once. When Lovino was.. sixteen I think. His mother was drunk, and Lovino was out. I don't know where. I don't know how she got the money for the booze either, she ran out of child support very fast."

Antonio frowned. "That's weird," he said. Roma nodded.

"Are you sure you're up to living with him?" Roma asked, elbows on his knees, leaning forward.

"Yeah," Antonio said. "Yeah, I am."


	7. Chapter 7

Antonio unlocked the door to his apartment. It swung open with a creak and he flicked the light switch and walked in.

"So yeah," he said, feeling rather awkward, "this is where I live. Is it okay?" He looked over at Lovino, who was agape, taking in Antonio's abode.

"It's huge," he murmured finally. Antonio was about deny that statement, but then realized that to Lovino, who lived in that tiny apartment and before then that old trailer, his small home must seem like a mansion.

He walked over to his couch and plopped down on the couch, sighing. Lovino still stood in the doorway, until Antonio patted the cushion next to him and Lovino moved over next to Antonio.

They sat in silence for a moment. Finally, Antonio asked,

"So what's up with this whole 'Dad' thing? Why are you so scared of him?"

Lovino glared at him. "I'm not scared."

Antonio sighed. "It's okay to be scared, you know. To be frightened. It's healthy, actually, as long as you don't let your fear control you." Antonio looked over at Lovino. "Okay?"

"I'm _not scared." _Lovino said defiantly, teeth clenched.

"But you're shaking," Antonio commented.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. Here, see," Antonio placed a hand on Lovino's back, in-between his shoulder blades, feeling his small body quiver beneath his palm. Lovino flinched and Antonio pulled back, startled. "Sorry. Did that hurt?"

"No!" Lovino denied quickly. Antonio raised an eyebrow but Lovino stared defiantly at him, daring him to say something.

"Take off your shirt," Antonio said finally.

"No! Pervert!" Lovino blushed and Antonio grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it up, exposing his back. Lovino flushed and drew back, pulling his shirt back down. Antonio made another grab for him and Lovino turned and slapped him across the face.

Antonio sat, stunned for a minute. "Sorry," he apologized, holding a hand to his cheek. "That was rude of me."

Lovino huffed and sat down again on the couch, crossing his arms irritably. He leaned forward and grabbed the remote on the coffee table, switching the television on without saying a word, determinedly staring at the screen and not looking at Antonio, who was watching him silently, a smile played across his lips.

"What?!" Lovino snapped. "What is it?!"

"What's what?"

"Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have gunk in my teeth or something?" he demanded.

Antonio grinned. "No, it's not that."

"Then _what is it?!"_

"Nothing. You're just cute, that's all."

Lovino blushed furiously, his whole face red. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again, at a loss for words as Antonio continued to calmly smile at him. He looked away, focusing on the TV, although Antonio could tell that he wasn't paying attention to the images on the screen.

"How _is _your back doing, though?" Antonio asked. Lovino shrugged.

"Fine."

"You looked like you were in pain, though."

"It's fine."

"No, it's not," Antonio said. "Your health and safety is important. You need to realize that, or you're going to die,"

Lovino scoffed. "Good."

"That's not good! A lot of people would miss you if you died!" Antonio protested.

"Yeah?" Lovino countered. "Who?"

Antonio paused. "Your- your grandfather would! And Feliciano too!"

Lovino laughed, but not the clear, high laugh Antonio had heard earlier- no, this was full of scorn and anger and resentment, dark humor at his humorless life.

"Roma can't stand me. Feliciano thinks I'm too negative and a bummer to be around, and doesn't like me. Apart from them, I have no other friends." Lovino started out saying that defiantly, but by the end of the sentence he seemed to have shrunk, his eyes downcast and his expression forlorn.

"You have me," Antonio said, patting Lovino's shoulder. Lovino scoffed.

"Yeah, fat lot of good that is," he scorned.

"I'm offended, Lovi," Antonio said, pulling his best puppy eyes, trying not to laugh.

Lovino glanced at him. "Wounded, even?"

"Hurt, Lovi," Antonio replied. Lovino glared at him, although Antonio could see a hint of a smile beginning to form at the corner of his lips. Antonio yawned and stretched. He checked his watch. It read 11:03 pm.

"We should go to bed," he said. "Bedroom's over there." He pointed past the kitchenette to a small back room containing what used to be the bed he and Colin often shared, a queen size bed. Colin had left the sheets and blanket on, Antonio noticed, silently thanking his exuberant friend. Lovino nodded and headed towards the room, flopping down on the bed and curling into a little ball. Antonio walked in after him.

"You should put on pajamas," he noted. Lovino mumbled something unintelligible. "What was that?" he asked.

"Don't have any."

_Oh, _Antonio thought, _of course. He doesn't have anything with him at the moment. _He thought for a second. "Just wear your underwear."

_"No!" _without getting up, Lovino grabbed a pillow and threw it at Antonio, hitting him squarely in the face before landing with a 'poof' on the bed. Antonio rolled his eyes.

"Fine, borrow something of mine." He got up and walked over to the closet and dug around, finding an old baggy t-shirt. He held it up. "Will this work?"

Lovino twisted his head around to stare at the article of clothing and then silently nodded. Antonio flopped down on the bed, tossing the shirt to Lovino, who caught it. After a moment he uncurled himself and got up and padded barefoot to the bathroom, where he emerged from a minute later wearing just the t-shirt and his boxers underneath.

He was a small, skinny person, and Antonio, while he was lean, was not exactly small. His shirt dwarfed Lovino's thin body, ending just above where the fabric of the shorts cut off, exposing Lovino's petite, effeminate legs.

Antonio gulped. _He looks hot, _he realized, and then berated himself for thinking like that. He was supposed to help Lovino, not ogle at him.

And yet, he couldn't seem to tear his gaze from those hazelnut eyes and soft tousled brown hair, with that permanent curl that always stood straight up, from that pale creamy skin and his lips which looked almost like a girl's- full and pink, luscious and absolutely kissable, the delicate collarbones and the slender frame of his body.

"Is there something wrong?" Lovino asked, one hand on his hip. Antonio shook his head quickly and looked away, feeling his face grow hot. Lovino walked over to the bed and lay down, stretching. He looked over at Antonio. "You gonna get changed too, or just sleep in your jeans like an idiot?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, uh-yes. Yes, I will," Antonio stuttered. He grabbed a shirt and pair of shorts and random and headed into the bathroom and changed quickly, brushing his teeth. He got into bed beside Lovino and turned out the light.

"Do you have earplugs?" Lovino asked after a couple of minutes.

"Huh?"

"I snore," Lovino explained.

"Oh," Antonio said. "No, I don't. I have headphones though, if those would work,"

"That's fine," Lovino said, and turned away again. Antonio grabbed his headphones from the drawer inside his bedside table and placed them on his head, trying to get comfortable. He couldn't fall asleep with the annoying contraption over his ears, making his head feel weird. He figured he could handle snoring and fell asleep to the sound of Lovino's quiet huffs of breath.

* * *

He awoke in the middle of the night to a bloody, ear-piercing scream. Antonio shrieked and scrambled up and off the bed, searching for the source of the sound, frightened, and became even more frightened when he realized the scream was coming from his bedroom.

He walked back into his bedroom and got back onto the bed. The sound was louder from here. He turned on a small dim lamp and was astonished to see that the one screaming was… Lovino?

* * *

"Lovino," he whispered, trying to shake him awake. Lovino was clutching his head in his hands, knees to his chest, jaw unhinged and screaming, screaming in a way that inflicted fear into Antonio.

"Lovino." he said again, louder this time, but Lovino didn't answer, still screaming, pausing occasionally protesting words that didn't seem to make sense to Antonio- "No, please, no, no, no.." repeating over and over again as his whole body trembled, sweat soaking the back of his shirt and tears dripping down his cheeks.

"Shit," Antonio cursed. He shook Lovino again, but it changed nothing. He rubbed Lovino's tensed back soothingly, whispering into his ear. _"Shhh, Lovi, everything will be fine, everything is fine.." _and eventually Lovi's screams turned into whimpers and his cries quieted into choked sobs, his ragged breath evened and he fell back into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.

Antonio watched him sleep for a while, the steady rise and fall of his chest relaxing him, until eventually he fell asleep next to Lovino.


	8. Chapter 8

_Hey, so I changed the title to better match the story and what will happen. This story was previously "The Truth Withheld." For those special few who have reviewed, I want to say thank you very very much. I was thinking of just quitting but because of your kind words I decided to continue. Thank you very much, and please enjoy the show!_

* * *

Lovino woke up and walked silently into the kitchen to find Antonio already leaning on the counter. The coffee machine gurgled behind him. "Coffee?" Antonio offered.

"Please," Lovino sat down heavily on one of the chairs.

"How'd you sleep?" Antonio asked carefully.

"Good."

"You're lying." Antonio stated angrily.

"Why do you think that?" Lovino asked casually, avoiding Antonio's steady gaze.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because you were _screaming _and _crying _last night and nothing I could do could wake you up?!" Antonio shouted, furious.

"That was none of your business, and you should have kept out of it!" Lovino yelled back.

"It _is _my business if you're living with me now! How am I supposed to sleep with you screaming?" Antonio demanded.

"I told you to put on headphones! It's not my fault you didn't listen," Lovino protested.

Antonio started to say something, but he stopped himself. He leaned back on the counter again. _Deep breath in, deep breath out.._ he told himself and he calmed after a minute.

"I'm not going to argue with you," he said finally. The coffee machine dinged and he poured out two cups, handing one to Lovino. He sat himself across from Lovino, watching him take a sip.

Even if Antonio didn't already know about Lovino's night terrors, Antonio could tell he hadn't slept well. His eyes were red and there were bags under his eyes, his face pale.

"You look awful," he commented. Lovino glared at him.

"Thanks." He said sarcastically, taking a sip of his coffee. He pulled back quickly.

"Too hot?" Antonio asked, concerned.

"No," Lovino replied. "Its- its good." He raised the mug to his lips and took another sip and was soon gulping it down. Antonio stared, wide-eyed.

"You probably shouldn't drink it all at once," he started to say, but Lovino slammed down his empty mug on the table.

"More."

"You've had one mug already, two is really unwise, especially since you're young and thin and obviously don't eat very much or often, so-" Antonio started, trying to reason with the angry Italian.

"Shut up and make me more coffee."

* * *

As Lovino finished his second cup, Antonio finally got the nerve to speak.

"What were you dreaming about last night?" he asked, folding his hands in front of him. Lovino set down his mug, the sharp sound making Antonio jump.

"Why do you need to know?" he replied starkly.

"I'm a therapist. I know how to get rid of these dreams, how to make you feel better. I can help you," Antonio said, leaning forward and taking Lovino's hand. Lovino pulled his hand away.

"I don't need your help."

"You do if you're starting fights, getting beat up, and screaming at night! You are being so obstinate and not telling me anything, it's pissing me off! You wallow in self-pity and complain about how hard your life is, but you don't do anything about it. You obviously can't help yourself, so I'm going to help whether you like it or not." Antonio laid down the rules.

Lovino folded his arms. "Fine."

"So. What were you dreaming about last night?"

* * *

_It was him again, barging in at ten at night. Lovino and Feliciano were already asleep, but were woken up by the sound of the door slamming. Feliciano whimpered and Lovino covered his mouth with his hand, hoping he wasn't in a bad mood, hoping that today had been a good day and that he wouldn't take it out on them. Uneven footsteps sounded and then stopped. _

_The door swung open, creaking eerily. Lovino feigned sleep, and he knew Feliciano would too. The light switch flicked on and Lovino squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that if he opened them danger awaited him. _

_"Papa?" Feliciano asked, quiet and sincere. "Are you drunk again? Mamma cried until she fell asleep tonight. Please don't get drunk again, Papa."_

_Shit. _

_As much as Lovino hated his brother, hated his younger sibling for being better in every way, he still loved him. Still cared for him, still wanted to protect his stupid idiotic smiling face and he knew he would have to again tonight, as he always did. _

_As Feliciano cowered against the wall, as he neared closer, Lovino stood up defiantly. The eight year old glared up at his father. _

_"Why don't you leave us alone, you stupid bastard!" he yelled. "Go away! You're a stupid sonofabitch and I wish you had never been born!" he cried, trying to sound brave, hoping that his father would go for him and not Feliciano. _

_His father merely laughed. "Ditto," he grumbled, and suddenly a fist blew into Lovino's stomach, knocking him backward. He curled into a ball, hands over his head, and waited for it to end._

_The dream changed._

_He was twenty-two now, coming back to the trailer. He sniffed. Something smelt like it was burning.. was somebody having a barbeque? Lovino raced home but as he neared he was shocked to see smoke rising in great twisting pillars. Following them, he found himself at his home._

_Or, what used to be his home. _

_Tongues of flame shot upward, licking the sides of the house. Lovino bolted inside._

_"Mom!" he yelled. "Mom!" but he got no reply. She was lost, and so was Lovino, so so lost and he couldn't find any way out…_

_Sobs of a young man breaking into small pieces littered the air._

* * *

Lovino hesitated.

"Spiders," he said finally. "I dreamt about spiders."

* * *

Antonio knew Lovino had been lying, but he didn't want to push him too hard. Lovino was looking fragile, depressed, and Antonio felt that he somehow was responsible for that. He decided then, that he was therefore responsible for cheering Lovino up.

"C'mon," he said to Lovino. "Get up. We're going out,"

Lovino stared moodily into the dregs of his empty mug. "I don't have any clothes."

"We can stop by your apartment or buy you some, although to be honest, I'm out of money," Antonio suggested helpfully. Lovino stood up.

"Then we'll go to my apartment."

* * *

Lovino knocked on his door but no one answered. Hesitantly he swung the door open and tiptoed in. Seconds later he sprinted out.

"He's in there," he whispered.

"So? Just get your clothes. He can't get mad at you for getting dressed, can he?"

"He's asleep," Lovino informed him.

"Then get your clothes quietly."

Lovino shook his head. "I'm not going in there," he whispered. Even though Antonio couldn't adequately hear his voice, he could hear fear in his tone. Lovino was _really _scared of his dad.

"Fine. I will," Antonio said. He squared his shoulders and headed in, ignoring Lovino's pleas to come back.

He winced when the floorboards creaked under his weight, and then realized that they were still making noise, even though he had stopped moving. He turned around, afraid that Lovino's father had woken up, but it was only Lovino, walking quickly alongside him.

"Let's just grab the clothes and go," he whispered hurriedly, pulling clothes out of a drawer on his dresser. He turned to Antonio, who was staring at the dent in the wall Lovino's father had made the day before.

"Come on," he whispered, pulling Antonio away, but Antonio stayed where he was.

"How did that get there?" he asked, pointing to the hole in the wall. "It wasn't there the last time I was here,"

Lovino said nothing, just tugged at Antonio's arm, trying to leave, but Antonio grabbed his arm, holding him in place.

"Did your dad do that?" he asked, glancing over at the sleeping man on the couch, cradling an empty bottle of beer in his hand.

"Yes," Lovino whispered irritably, "now let's _go!"_

"Did he hurt you?"

"I got away. Can we go now?" Antonio stared at the dent for a second longer, and then headed for the door, Lovino looking over his shoulder carefully at his sleeping father.

Antonio's foot jammed into a loose nail sticking out of the floorboards and he tumbled to the ground, an ungainly thump accompanying his yelp of pain.

"Fuck!" Lovino swore and pulled him up, almost at the door, when someone grabbed the back of Lovino's shirt, pulling him back. He reached out, trying to hold onto something, but his fists came back empty handed. Lovino didn't have to turn around to see who was holding him. He already knew.

"Let him go." Antonio said steadily. Lovino's father sneered.

"Who's prettyboy, Lovi? Come on, you can tell Papa," he teased, foul breath tickling Lovino's ear.

"I'm his- his.." What should Antonio say? Therapist? No, that probably wouldn't go too well with Lovino's dad. Friend? Not exactly, Lovino seemed to hate Antonio. Roommate? Only temporarily. Antonio grasped for an answer. "I'm his boyfriend," he said finally, deciding that was probably the most truthful and at the same time safe answer.

Lovino glared at Antonio, but at the same time blushing, although Antonio couldn't tell if it really was a blush or just him being angry and red-faced.

His father laughed. "I knew you were a pussy, Lovi, but I never thought you were a faggot." He tossed him aside and Lovino stumbled but didn't fall. "You." His father pointed at Antonio. "Get out."

"Not without Lovino," Antonio demanded.

"Get out, Antonio!" Lovino screamed. "Leave!"

"Yeah, Antonio," his father mimicked. "We have some things to discuss."

Antonio cowered. He knew he wasn't going to win this fight but he wasn't going to let Lovino get hurt, either. He slowly walked out the door, feigning closing it behind him, but secretly leaving it open a crack so he could get back in quickly if anything happened.

He could hear something being moved, and then Lovino's voice, muffled, but he couldn't tell exactly what he was saying. There was his father's gruff, deep voice now, and then Lovino must have replied with something that angered his father, as Antonio heard an "oof" and something knock against the floorboards, then the wall, again and again.

Antonio tried to open the door, but something heavy had been placed in front of it, preventing him from opening the door. He stuck his foot in the crack and tried to push it open, straining the muscles in his leg.

He heard a whimper and the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and several more thuds.

"Lovino!" he yelled but got no answer, banging on the door hoping for some form of reply. All he heard was the sound of Lovino's voice, muttering something that must have displeased his father, as Antonio heard his father's voice yell in rage. _"Lovino!" _he shouted again.

Shoving his foot in the door, he tried to wedge the heavy object blocking the door. A little bit at a time, it moved slowly, and Antonio could hear it scraping the floorboards. Another scream resounded, following a sickening cracking noise.

Antonio pushed harder, shoving with all his might until the door wedged open enough for him to slide into the room. He was disgusted by what he saw.

Lovino sat, huddled in the corner, hands over his head, trying to block his father's blows, blood staining his face, dripping from his nose and forehead, a slight trickle of red at the corner of his mouth.

Antonio had always figured Lovino would be the type to fight back, not to let anyone hurt him like this, like he had with that weird biker dude at the party. Remembering how afraid Lovino had been of his father, Antonio reasoned that Lovino was just too scared to fight back, instead cowering and waiting until it was over.

His father was standing over him, launching punches and kicks, occasionally slamming him into the wall or tossing him to the ground, not caring what happened to his son as long as he felt pain, face red with anger, a vein in his forehead sticking out.

He didn't stop when Antonio came in and didn't cease when Antonio pulled him off of Lovino, still launching his fists randomly, landing a blow on Antonio's face. He grabbed hold of Lovino's father's wrist, holding it in place, but only received another punch to the face.

He was Lovino's father's target now.

Antonio wasn't good at fighting. That had always been Gilbert's thing, cheering him on in a street alley while Francis flirted with whoever was there. He had gotten into fights before, but mainly when he was drunk and his friends had roped him into some stupid prank and he ended up taking the blame.

So instead of readying his fists, he squared his jaw, wheeled around, grabbed the empty beer bottle that Lovino's father had been drinking earlier and broke it over his head.

It worked, although Antonio felt a slight amount of remorse for his actions. He worried that the man was dead, but he bent down to check his pulse and realized he was merely unconscious.

Thank god for that. Now, if he could just work another miracle…

He hurried over to Lovino's side. "Lovi!" he called. "Lovi, can you hear me?"

"Hnnn…" Lovino groaned, his eyelids fluttering.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have made you go in, I should have lent you some of my own clothes, I'm so sorry Lovi-" Antonio apologized quickly, his tongue tripping over the words.

"Why.." Lovi whispered. Antonio put his ear to Lovino's bloody lips.

"What?"

_"Why the __**fuck **__did you say you were my __**BOYFRIEND?!**_" Lovino yelled into Antonio's ear.

"I- I thought it would be the best explanation, I mean, we're temporary roommates, and I can't really say I'm the guy who's supposed to be your therapist but isn't really, you know.." Antonio stuttered, then trailed off.

Even with his face bloodied and injured, Lovino could still glare perfectly fine.

"Get up,"' Antonio ordered. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

"No, you're not!" Lovino spat, mixed with blood, speckling on Antonio's face.

"Yes, I am. You're injured and hurt and god knows what else, so get up right now. Understand?"

Lovino moved slowly, then winced. "Fine," he mumbled. "Take me to the hospital, please."


	9. Chapter 9

"Name?" The man at the reception desk asked.

"Herbert Flemington," Lovino replied. Antonio glanced at him. He wondered why Lovino would want to use an alias, he didn't seem to be up to any strange business. Well. Except for breaking into your own home to steal clothes.

The receptionist stood up and motioned for Antonio to come with him. He adjusted Lovino, who was on his back, and followed him down the hallway.

"Herbert Flemington? Seriously? Couldn't you have chosen a better name?" Antonio whispered. Even though he was not able to see Lovino's face, he could almost feel the glare.

When he got to the room he gently laid Lovino down on the examination bed and waited for a doctor or nurse or someone to come in, although after ten minutes he saw no one.

"Lovi?"

"What is it?!" he snapped, twisting his head to look at Antonio and then wincing and placing it back in its original position.

"Are you in pain?"

"No, it's all daisies and sunflowers. _OF COURSE I'M IN PAIN YOU IGNORANT TWAT!" _ Lovino spat, teeth clenched.

Antonio stepped outside for a second.

"HELP! NURSE! THIS MAN IS HAVING A..a.. um.. HEART ATTACK!" he yelled, his voice echoing down the long halls.

"The fuck? You could just say I needed help!" Lovi yelled. "Now they're going to fucking zap my chest or whatever and then I'll _die _or some shit like that, oh _god _thanks a _lot _Antonio," he yelled. Antonio couldalmost _taste _the sarcasm in his voice, dripping from his tongue.

However, it was effective. Moments later, several nurses charged down the hallway with a cart and positioned around Lovino, hooking up machinery and devices.

"Wait! I was lying," Antonio panted. "He's not having a heart attack. But he's in pain, and he needs help, and no one was coming, so.." he gave his best puppy eyes. "You understand, right?"

The nurses looked at each other disbelievingly, and then three left, leaving only the one nurse.

Oh, and this other guy in the corner with a bear keychain on his nurse tag, but Antonio hardly even noticed him until he moved and he realized he was not the wallpaper but in fact a real human being.

The wallpaper-bear-nurse-guy stepped forward and pulled on rubber gloves.

"If you would please remove your clothes, sir," he stated in a tiny voice. Lovino opened his mouth to protest, but Antonio nodded at him and he shut his mouth and finally shook his head yes.

Antonio stepped outside, waiting, his back grazing the gauzy polythene curtain blocking Lovi from his view. He spotted a chair nearby and sat down heavily.

He reflected on the events of just this past week. In a matter of days, Lovi had gotten beat up three times, had dislocated his knee, and now had gotten beat up by his own _father_, and the more he got hurt the more Antonio's curiosity built up inside him, welling up so much he thought he could burst.

Why was Lovino refusing to tell him anything, instead evading his questions, lying, or just simply hiding the truth? What was so terrible about reality, about his past that he didn't want anyone to know about? That biker guy at that party seemed to have known him, and he was just some random stranger… right?

So how come everyone seemed to know about Lovino _except _Antonio?

He yawned. He was tired; he hadn't slept too well last night after Lovino's screaming escapade and didn't fight as his head lolled back and his eyes closed and he fell asleep, the beeping of the heart monitors singing an electronic lullaby.

* * *

"You can come back in now,"

A soft voice awakened Antonio and he jerked awake. "Huh?"

The quiet nurse with the bear keychain opened the curtain to where Lovino was and Antonio followed through.

"How is he?" he asked, trying to keep his voice low.

"He's alive. Well. I mean, he's not hurt too badly, mainly just a broken nose, but he managed to shield himself pretty well, it looks like. The only other issues are the lost tooth and the concussion. What I'm most concerned about is the concussion; it's not too severe but there might be some memory loss and headaches. If any other symptoms occur, please bring him here immediately. I'm also concerned about the bruising on his back, it is very severe and it seems as if there is also bruising of the bone, hopefully not fractured, but you never know…" he said hurriedly. Antonio stared at him blankly. "He should be okay after a few days of rest. He's sleeping now, because I gave him some meds. It's very important that he gets plenty of rest and doesn't jostle, so please don't wake him."

Antonio sighed, relieved.

"What happened to him, anyway?" The nurse's clear blue eyes bored into his and Antonio didn't want to lie, but didn't want to tell the truth either, for fear of getting Lovino in trouble.

"He fell down the stairs," Antonio mumbled, looking at his feet, the wall, the curtains, anywhere but those lonely eyes.

"Three times?"

"He's clumsy," Antonio mumbled.

The nurse raised his eyebrows. "Look, I don't have an opinion, I'm just supposed to heal him. But we can tell how old bruises and injuries are, up to almost the exact hour. Three days in a row, he fell down the stairs? I'd tell you to go to the police but there is no record anywhere of a Lovino Vargas."

"His name is.. uh.. it was.. Herbert Flemington," Antonio said quickly.

"While he was drugged up we got his real name out of him. We checked local records, then statewide, then nationwide. He is not registered anywhere. According to the US government, Lovino Vargas does not exist."

"So he's…" Antonio trailed off.

"An illegal immigrant? Yes. If he went to the police, he would be arrested and taken back to wherever he originally came from."

Antonio sat back down heavily in his chair. He rested his head in his hands. "He never said anything about that," he muttered. "Just said not to go to the police."

"He's smarter than most people give him credit for," the nurse said. "If he gets into any more trouble and you can't take him to a hospital for whatever reason, here's my number and my address." He scribbled something on a piece of paper he tore from a small notepad in his pocket and handed it to Antonio.

"Thanks," he mumbled and turned around and stepped into Lovino's room.

He was asleep, quiet huffs of breath escaping Lovino's lips. He looked so calm, so peaceful and rested, without worry spread across his face, he seemed almost a separate person.

Not knowing exactly what he was doing or why, or even the tight, constricted feeling in his chest, Antonio bent down and kissed Lovino softly on his forehead, his lips resting on Lovino's smooth skin. He pulled away after a couple seconds, shocked. He touched his lips lightly.

He had kissed people before, girls and boys alike, but it had always been without emotion, feeling, no reason to it or unseen force compelling him, it had just been kissing for the sake of kissing, so that they could move on to making out and then it would be socially acceptable for Antonio to slide his hand up their shirt. But this felt different, somehow, and he wasn't sure why, and the fact that he didn't know bothered him.

He watched Lovino sleep for a while, calming his thoughts, and eventually left and returned to his apartment.

* * *

The next day, he came again with a small bouquet of flowers he had grabbed from some dying old lady's bedside down the hall. He peeled back the curtain and saw Lovino, awake, scowling at his tray of food which looked, to Antonio, like shit.

"How ya feeling?" he asked, sitting down on the edge of Lovino's bed.

"Alright. The main issue is the concussion, but tomorrow they're letting me out." He looked up at Antonio through heavily lidded eyes. "Is it… uh… is it okay if I stay at your place again?"

Antonio didn't say anything, and Lovino stuttered a reply: "Oh, uh, I mean, if it's not okay I understand, I can go somewhere else, I just don't want to go back… you know-"

Antonio smiled. "Of course it's fine. I'm glad to have you again. I promise I won't try to force you to do anything you don't want to do again," he looked down at his hands, folded in his lap. "It's my fault that your dad got you again. I'm-"

His words were cut off as Lovino placed a finger on his lips, silencing him instantly. Antonio remembered Lovino's soft skin on his lips from the other day, feeling awkward. Lovino leaned in, his face so close, so very close to Antonio's that he could almost see the pores in his skin, the small bumps on his face.

Lovino's lips parted and for a split second he thought he was going to kiss him, but then Lovino spoke.

"It's fine. I forgive you- just this once. Besides, it probably would have happened sooner or later, so best to get it over and done with, right?" a corner of Lovino's mouth jerked upward.

Antonio stared at him, stunned.

"Y'alright?" Lovino asked, staring at him, concerned. Antonio blinked, and mentally shook himself, hoping to shake off his strange thoughts. He smiled unsteadily.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just… tired."

* * *

The next day, he picked Lovino up from the hospital and drove him back to his apartment. They got to the door, Lovino thoroughly bored and yet bemused. Antonio opened the door and swung it open, reaching in past Lovino and switched on the light switch.

"SURPRISE!" Francis and Gilbert jumped out at Lovino, Gilbert wearing a party hat bedazzled with ponies, Francis blowing into a noisemaker. Antonio looked at Lovino. He hadn't known who to call, he didn't know Roma or Feliciano's number and had a feeling Lovino had no other friends, so had decided to rely on the most reliable people he knew, Francis and Gilbert.

Francis had the evening off after his shift and Kmart and Gilbert… well, Antonio didn't actually know what Gilbert did for a living; he wasn't even sure if Gilbert had a job or was capable of keeping a job, however, he always seemed to have enough money for booze and Cheetos and the latest release of World of Warcraft so Antonio figured he was alright.

Lovino looked stunned, almost, like a deer caught in headlights, then slowly, very slowly, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips and he smiled, awkwardly.

"We've heard a lot about you," Gilbert said, shaking Lovino's hand enthusiastically. "I'm Gilbert."

"And I'm Francis." Francis stepped forward, more into the light, away from the shadows where his face had been partially darkened.

Lovino's eyes grew wide and his smile quickly faded. "You okay?" Francis asked, stepping closer to Lovino, who backed away hastily.

"Stay away from me!" he yelled. Antonio touched his shoulder, then pulled back suddenly. Lovino was trembling, and Antonio noticed his fists were repeatedly clenching and unclenching. Antonio remembered in a flash when Lovino had come into his therapy office the second time, the bruises on his face and the trembling, seemingly frozen, shut down, afraid.

Francis frowned. "Do I know you?" he asked. Lovino stared back blankly. Francis studied his face. "You know, you do look a bit familiar." Realization flooded his face. "Y-You're-"

"Don't say it." Lovino's tone was shaking, but firm.

Francis glanced at Antonio, then his eyes flashed back to Lovino. "Does he know?"

"No."

Francis raked his hair back from his forehead, fingers running through his blonde crown. "I'm sorry. I was, well…I was going through some dark times, I was drunk and needed…well, you know…" he trailed off and looked at Lovino apologetically. Antonio looked from Francis to Lovino to Francis and back. What was this strange exchange happening in front of him?

"That doesn't excuse it! I was _fourteen!"_ Lovino spat.

Francis's face blanched. "F-fourteen?" he stammered. "You said you were seventeen!"

Lovino looked away. "I needed the money."

Francis rubbed his forehead with his palms. "If I had known, I wouldn't have… I'm sorry." He reached out to Lovino, his hand outstretched, begging for forgiveness or mercy or just craving human touch and comfort, Antonio didn't know.

Lovino smacked his hand away. "Don't touch me."

Francis stared at his hand for a moment, then slowly brought it back to him, to his chest. "You're not still..?"

Lovino shook his head. Francis breathed a sigh of relief. "Good for you," he said. Lovino shrugged.

"I'm doing alright, mostly." Lovino placed his hands in his pockets and looked up at the ceiling, chewing his lip nervously. Finally he looked back to Francis. "Thanks for apologizing," he said. "You're the first one who has."

Francis raised an eyebrow. "What do the others do?" Lovino said nothing, merely pointed to his face. Francis's eyes widened. He took in Lovino's bruised face, his pallor looking sickly yellow in the dim lighting.

"If you ever need someone to talk to, or just… help, or protection, you can trust Antonio. He's a bit weird, but he's a good guy at heart," Francis added, smiling. He clapped a hand on the back of Antonio's shoulder. "Isn't that right?"

Dumbfounded, Antonio nodded. He wasn't exactly sure what just happened, or if it was still happening, or even what was happening now, but he figured it was generally a good idea to nod when someone broke off and asked a question.

Lovino laughed. "Yeah, he is."

* * *

Later that evening, while Lovino was in the bathroom, Antonio cornered Francis.

"What was that whole scene back there? What did he mean, he was fourteen and you thought he was seventeen and he needed money? He hasn't told me anything about that!" Antonio demanded.

Francis turned to him, glass of wine in hand. "Look, he'll tell you when he's ready. Just give him time," he said after a moment's consideration.

"But I want to know now! He's getting beaten up by strangers and I have no idea why! How am I supposed to protect him and take care of him if I don't even know who or what he is?!"

Francis didn't answer, just stared down into his glass of wine, swishing the cup around and watching the red liquid rotate with the cup.

"How the fuck do you even know him anyway? How come you seem to know more about him than I do, and I'm his fucking _roommate, _for fuck's sake!" Antonio was beginning to get angry, he could feel pent up aggression and frustration that had built up the past few weeks simmering. Soon, he was going to overflow with emotion.

Francis took a sip from his glass. "I slept with a lot of people during my… dark days." (Francis referred to the time in their senior year of high school, when the person he loved rejected him. Francis fell into a slump and started drinking heavily, dropped out of school and didn't attend college, and attempted to distance himself from that person by roaming all over the country, spending what little money he had on drink and prostitutes. It ended when Antonio and Gilbert, concerned, broke into Francis's bank account and cut off all funds for him, so he was forced eventually to return for rehab.) "I don't remember them all, but I remember him." He continued, and looked up at Antonio, a pained expression on his face.

"You slept with-" Antonio started, but Francis continued talking.

"That's all I can tell you for now. I'll leave the rest to him," Francis laid a hand on Antonio's shoulder. "Don't force him, no matter how curious you are. God knows he's had enough of that already. Give him space. He'll come to you when he is ready."


	10. Chapter 10

After Gilbert and Francis had left (Gilbert took some prodding as he had passed out on the couch due to over drinking and was escorted out the door by Francis, supporting his unsteady form so he didn't fall or worse in his drunken stupor.), Antonio was cleaning up. Lovino was sitting on the couch, a bottle of beer in his hand. It was open, but untouched.

Antonio scooped the plastic cups into the trash can and collapsed on the couch next to Lovino. "So," he said, thrusting his arm over the back side of the couch, his forearm touching Lovino's hunched back. "You slept with Francis?"

Lovino looked at him, either blushing or intensely angry, fury blazing in his eyes. "He _told _you?!" he growled.

"That's all he told me," Antonio reassured. "I don't judge you or think of you any different for this, I want you to know," he laughed. "Hell, even I've slept with Francis so I guess we're even, eh?" He glanced at Lovino, who was still furious, hands curled into fists and teeth clenched.

"Look, I'm curious, I want to know everything, what's happening, but I understand you might not be ready for that. So just- whenever you feel you can talk, I'll be there. I'll listen."

Lovino nodded, his face still tinted red. "Thanks," he looked up at Antonio and their eyes met and connected and Lovino's luminescent orbs, brown, speckled with green, captured his gaze for what seemed like an eternity in just a couple seconds.

Their hands met and Antonio's chest hurt, and he felt like someone was twisting his innards, clenching nervously. "You're a pretty good guy, actually. But still an idiot," he laughed, genuinely, like that day where they had been running. Antonio's heart skipped.

Lovino stood up suddenly. Their hands unconnected. He walked towards the bedroom. "Is it okay if I sleep in your room tonight?" he called. Antonio's heart… and other parts lurched.

"Y-yeah," he yelled back. He heard a scuffle and the sound of cloth. He leaned forwards and could see light shining through the doorway. A shirt fluttered down and came to rest on the floor. A zipping noise resounded and soon enough a worn pair of jeans joined the shirt. After a couple moments, Lovino came out, dressed in Antonio's pajamas from the previous day.

Antonio crossed his legs. Lovino walked over to Antonio. "What're you gaping at?" Antonio stared at him. "You look like a goldfish," Lovino snapped. "Have you seen my shoes?" he asked after a moment's silence. Antonio shook his head quickly. Lovino sighed. He walked- no, strutted, walking never looked so… sexy- around for a bit, looking here and there. He paused, his back facing Antonio, and kneeled down, his behind in the air. He looked under the couch.

"Aha!" Antonio heard his muffled voice, his head was inbetween the floor and the underside of the couch. Antonio adjusted himself, politely pretending to stare at a very interesting speck on the ceiling, when, in actuality, he was sneaking glances at Lovino's protruding behind.

Suddenly Lovino extracted his shoes, and himself, from under the couch. Startled, Antonio directed his gaze back to the ceiling. Lovino looked at the ceiling. "What's there?"

"Oh, nothing," Antonio lied, "just, uh… stuff."

"Stuff." Lovino repeated, hands on his hips.

"Yup," Antonio laughed nervously, "stuff."

Lovino stared at him for a second and then finally rolled his eyes. "You're weird," he said.

"Yeah, I am," Antonio agreed. "Shall we, uh, go to bed?"

* * *

Antonio had expected many things when Lovino asked if he could sleep in Antonio's room, but he hadn't expected _this._

Antonio sighed and adjusted the couch cushion. Sleeping on the couch wasn't that bad. It just wasn't exactly what he had had in mind.

* * *

He woke up in the night, again, to the sound of Lovino's fevered screams. Antonio threw back his blanket and rushed to Lovino's side. He stroked Lovino's silky hair and wiped his tears away with his thumb, whispering soothing words until Lovino's screams quieted into sobs and then whimpers, and finally, were gone completely.

Exhausted, not caring where he was or what Lovino might think in the morning, Antonio fell asleep, Lovino's curled body held tightly in his arms.

* * *

Lovino blinked and rubbed his eyes. He began to sit up, but something pulled him back down onto the bed. He turned around and nearly shrieked when Antonio's face was mere centimeters away from his. He pulled Antonio's limp but heavy arm off him and sat up fully, taking in the surrounding.

He rubbed his forehead. Hadn't he told Antonio to stay on the couch last night? That bastard must have snuck back in while he was asleep…

A thought popped in Lovino's head and he jolted, like a shot of electricity ran through him.

_Shit, _he thought frantically, _did I sleep with him? _

Lovino desperately tried to recall last night's events. Images flew through his brain, but none depicting him and Antonio in… compromising positions. Lovino sighed and fell back backwards onto the bed again, relieved.

After a minute of lying and staring blankly at the ceiling, Lovino silently got up and padded towards the shower.

* * *

Antonio awoke to the sound of running water. With a start, he saw that Lovino was gone, but then realized he must be in the shower. He went into the kitchen and began making coffee, making extra for Lovino as he remembered Lovino's fondness for the drink.

As the coffee machine gurgled away, the water stopped and a few minutes later Lovino stepped out of the bathroom clothed in one of Antonio's jeans and t-shirts, which were large and baggy on him to the extent they seemed to dwarf him, like he was a child playing dress up in his father's clothes.

"Morning," he grumbled and sat down at the table. Antonio said nothing, just handed over a mug full of steaming black coffee. "Great. Thanks," Lovino murmured and took the cup from him gingerly. Antonio sat down in front of Lovino.

"You okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. Lovino stared into his mug.

"Yeah, I'm alright," he said after a moment. "Just- everything. It's too much. Like, I feel I'm carrying everything and I'm cracking and crumbling and dying, taking care of everyone's shit but my own and sometimes, after work or a customer in an alleyway, I just want to disappear. Want to just leave, not anyplace specific, just… leave."

He looked up at Antonio, pain in his eyes and his face and his voice and he looked like he was hurting and god, Antonio wanted to help him but he didn't know how and that killed him, the tears dribbling down Lovino's cheeks now and the slow, raking breath he inhaled and his shaking, quivering voice, he felt like someone had inserted a knife into his heart and was twisting it around slowly, painfully.

His hands somehow found their way onto Lovino's face, stroking his smooth skin and wiping off his tears. "I understand," he whispered. His hands cupped Lovino's petite face and brought it closer to his. Lovino leaned in and so did Antonio, their lips were mere centimeters away and Antonio was worried that Lovino would hear the extreme thumping and pounding of his heart, and Lovino closed his eyes and his lips parted and Antonio leaned forwards just a little bit more, and-

The doorbell rang, piercing the silence. Lovino opened his eyes and saw Antonio's livid green eyes staring back at him. Lovino blushed, and then flushed red upon realizing what they had been about to do, what he would have let Antonio do. He pulled away and got up, leaving his coffee, and fled into the bathroom. Antonio heard the lock click.

Antonio reprimanded himself for what he had been about to do. _I'm supposed to help Lovino, _he thought, _not cause any more trouble. I should be trying to get into his mind, into his past, and not into his pants._

The doorbell rung again and Antonio got up. He had barely just unlocked the door when it slammed open, whacking him in the face.

"Sorry buddy," Colin stepped into the apartment. "Y'alright?"

"I thought you moved," Antonio mumbled, rubbing his nose. "I did, but… let's just say it didn't work out," he looked at Antonio apologetically. "Can I move back in?"


	11. Chapter 11

"Sorry, I found someone else to live with me, at least for the time being," Antonio said, sincerely sorry that he had to turn his friend out.

"Oh," Colin shrugged. "Can I meet him?"

"He's in the bathroom," Antonio said. "wait here."

He knocked on the door of the bathroom. "Lovino! We have a visitor! Come and join us!" he called.

"Leave me alone!" Lovino yelled back.

"_Lo_viiiiiii…." Antonio complained, leaning on the door, his face to the wood. Finally the door swung open with a jolt and Antonio tumbled down on the floor, bringing Lovino (and a couple other bathroom objects)with him and accidentally pinning him down, hands on Lovino's wrists and his knees on either side of Lovino.

"Sorry," he apologized, blushing and made to get up, but stepped on a bar of soap that must have fallen with him, knocking him back down on Lovino again, his face buried between Lovi's neck and shoulder, one leg in-between Lovino's legs.

Colin stepped into the bathroom. "Oh my," he giggled, "should I let you two have some privacy?"

"Get _off, _you fucking bastard!" Lovino yelled and pushed Antonio off of him.

"Sorry," Antonio apologized again.

"You better be," Lovino scowled.

Antonio took the moment as an opportunity to introduce Lovino to Colin. "Lovi, this is Colin, my old roommate."

Lovino said nothing, only glared at Colin. "Lovino!" Antonio reprimanded. "Say hi! Say _something!"_

"Nice to meet you, how do you do, I'm Lovino Vargas it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Lovino hurried through the words as if they were a scripted line, but completely monotonous, no tone or emotion at all.

Antonio sighed. He had a feeling that was the best he would get out of Lovino for now. He would have to scold him later. He glanced at Colin, who laughed nervously.

"Nice to meet you too, Lovino," he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. Antonio got up and held out a hand for Lovino to take, to help him up, but Lovino refused to take it, instead picking himself up, not even looking at Antonio.

"So how about it?" Colin asked. "Can I move back in?"

"No."

Antonio stared at Lovino, shocked.

Colin laughed nervously. He draped a hand around Antonio's shoulder. "Aww, does this mean I'll have to say goodbye to your cute little face?" he said, jovially, jokingly smacking Antonio's butt. Antonio didn't mind, Colin was like his friend Francis in the sense that he comedically flirted with people and he was used to it by now. Apparently, Lovino was not.

Lovino's glare blazed with such intensity it could have melted the whole Antarctic into a puddle. Unfortunately, Colin didn't seem to get the message, and if he did, he was certainly enjoying teasing Lovino, who was not amused.

After long last, Colin had left and Lovino happily slammed the door in his face, turning around only to see a very, very angry Antonio.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" he bellowed. "He's my friend, and he comes in here and you treat him like shit!"

"It's not my fault he was being such a dick! He was hitting on you, and flirting, and you let him!" Lovino yelled back.

"Why do you care who flirts with me? You're just my roommate, just my patient- nothing more, okay?! He was being perfectly nice! _You _were the dick!" Antonio paused. "Why can't you be more like your brother?" he complained. "You're annoying, a pain, you waste my money, you're constantly insulting me and telling me an idiot- I do everything for you, and this is the way you treat me?"

Lovino said nothing, only glared.

"I try to help, I tried to help you with your dad and your injuries, I took you to the hospital and spent tons of money that I don't have fixing up your broken nose and your back, but I can't even know why you got these injuries? Is your secret really worth four hundred dollars?!" Antonio didn't know what he was saying now, but he couldn't stop, the words flying out of his mouth.

"Fine!" Lovino finally exploded. "I'll get you your goddamn money if that's all you want!" He stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

_Sorry this one is a bit short, the next chapter will be longer and updated shortly._


	12. Chapter 12

_Previously_

_"Fine!" Lovino finally exploded. "I'll get you your goddamn money if that's all you want!" He stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him._

* * *

Three hours later he returned, the banging of the door signaling his arrival. Antonio closed the book he had been reading with a snap.

"Where the _fuck _did you go, I've been worried thinking you were dead in a ditch somewhere or some shit, what makes you think you can just storm off like that-" Antonio's words were cut off when Lovino thrust something at him. Antonio took it from Lovino's hand and inspected it.

It was roughly four hundred dollars, all in cash. Shocked, Antonio looked at Lovino.

"How did you get this?" he asked.

Lovino didn't answer. "Can I take a shower?" he asked, but didn't wait for an answer and traipsed off to the bathroom, steps small, sporadic, a foot painfully put in front of the other slowly and gingerly as if he had been wounded. He locked the door behind him. Antonio heard running water and sat down on the couch, sighing. He stared at the money in his hand. How _did _Lovino get this?

Did he sell drugs?

That would make sense, but Antonio didn't want to believe it. Lovino didn't seem like a druggie… but then again, he was secretive, a loner, and had strange mood swings, so it seemed to fit.

Antonio almost didn't want to believe it. But he couldn't think of anything else that worked. He decided to confront Lovino after his shower.

He frowned. Lovino was taking an awfully long time in the shower. He got up and knocked on the bathroom door but got no answer. He pressed his ear to the door.

Sobs. It was hard to hear them over the sound of the shower, but they were definitely there, echoing off the walls. Convoluted, choking, guttural sobs broke Antonio's heart.

* * *

After a while Lovino came out of the shower. Antonio patted the cushion next to him on the couch.

"Can we talk?" Lovino nodded and sat down lightly. Antonio noticed his eyes were bloodshot but he didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry I treated you so unkindly." Antonio looked up, surprised. "It was wrong of me. I feel bad about myself so I try to make myself feel better by putting other people down. I don't mean it when I say you're stupid or an idiot or weird," Lovino continued. "Then that just makes me feel worse about myself so I go drown myself in self-pity because it makes it easier to blame everything on others, to say that you are not the one that is wrong, that the world is wrong, to be blissfully ignorant of your mistakes and painfully aware of everyone else's."

"Really, Lovi, it's-" Antonio was cut off as Lovino kept talking as if he hadn't heard him.

"I don't want to tell you or anyone, really, about my past and my secrets because then that means that I have to admit to myself that it happened, that it was real, and that it's not all some bad dream. It hurts to remember, to say it out loud, and getting beat up or insulted or yelled at is less painful than accepting the truth.

"I know I've been a dick. I'm mean, selfish, arrogant, jaded and jealous. I am aware of that but yet, even though I know it is false, I still manage to convince myself that it's not my fault, that I'm not to blame. I blame others for my mistakes. I've hurt everyone that I've been around- you, Feli, Roma, my mother- even my father to an extent. I hate that I do that but I can't stop."

"I'm sorry. I really am. I try to get better, try to _be _better. I've messed up, Antonio. I'm not going to ask for forgiveness because I royally screwed up and I need to learn how to take care of myself. I know you want to know everything, but I just- I'm not ready to admit it yet. I'm sorry."

* * *

"I'm glad."

Lovino looked up. "Huh?"

"I'm glad that you were able to say that. I think a week ago, you couldn't have said that to me or to anyone. I think you _are _improving, you are trying, and I'm really proud of you. It's hard to admit that it's your fault and it's hard to admit that it's _not _your fault or anyone else's.

"I do forgive you, even if you don't want me to. But I want you to stop acting so mean and cold all the time, especially to me. I want you to stop feeling so bad for yourself and open up, to stop with this whole self-pity 'my life sucks and I suck and I hate everything' attitude, and I know that's hard, but I wouldn't ask you to do that if I didn't think you could do it.

"So come on, Lovino, if you won't do it for yourself, do it for me."

* * *

Francis leaned against the wall outside the bar, puffing on his cigarette. It had been a long day. He hated his job but as he had no education further than high school, it was the best he could get at the moment. He exhaled, watching the smoke swirl up, twisting and twirling at length and then fading, like love or the stars, to be replaced by cheap sex and city lights.

The door slammed open and someone ran out. Francis couldn't see their face properly, but he saw something glisten and a rather voluminous pair of eyebrows.

Francis reached out and grabbed the shirt collar of the man. "Arthur?" he asked incredulously. He had seen Arthur here before, and had even chatted with him for the first time in years, but the whole time Arthur had seemed very... contained and self-conscious, and Francis could tell he wasn't completely truthful when he smiled with his mouth but not with his eyes, when he laughed.

And now it appeared he was crying, judging from the way his shoulders heaved and his breath came out raggedy.

"Just- let me go, alright? You don't care, so leave me alone!" he said. Francis's hand traveled down Arthur's sleeve and held his hand, giving it a little squeeze. He wasn't holding hands with him romantically, not today- he just thought Arthur needed some support, some caring, human touch and connection, but not sexually or romantically. He just wanted to help.

"Why would you ever think I didn't care?" he asked gently, carefully.

Arthur turned to him, tears flowing down his cheeks. "Because you left! After you told me you loved me, you just- disappeared! While you were off doing god knows what, I was searching for you and worrying! I thought you had _died! _I cared about you, Francis, and you just dumped me and went gallivanting round the whole bloody nation!"

"I thought- I thought you hated me. I thought you never wanted to see me again, I thought it would be better for you if I left. It was too painful to stay there, when you were just next door. I told you I loved you and you said nothing!" Francis yelled, taken aback at Arthur's words. Arthur _cared _about him? He must be joking.

"I didn't know what to say! That doesn't mean that I didn't love yo-" Arthur clapped his hand over his mouth, blushing.

Francis stared at him. "_That doesn't mean I didn't love you." _ Did Arthur actually have feelings for him, this whole time?

"I…" Francis didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

Arthur looked away. "It's fine," he mumbled. "It was years ago. I've gotten over it,"

"Then why were you crying?" Francis asked. Arthur glared at him.

"None of your business."

Francis shrugged. "You're right, it's not. But if you're willing to talk, I'm willing to listen."

Arthur sighed. "It's him. Alfred,"

"Ah." Alfred was this boisterous kid who lived on the extreme, always overdoing things to excess. He was friendly though, and kind, and well-liked, although he could be kind of a jerk sometimes with his massive ego and hero complex. Arthur had always looked out for him, almost like an older brother, putting antiseptic and band-aids on his knee after his latest skateboarding adventure, lending him CD's and buying him hamburgers on his birthday.

"I-I confessed to him- I told him how I feel about him," Arthur said, hugging himself, looking at his feet awkwardly.

"And he rejected you?" Slowly Arthur nodded, a teardrop falling off the tip of his nose onto the pavement.

Francis softened and hugged him tightly, feeling tears stain his shoulder. Arthur clutched him tightly, his fingernails digging into Francis's back, but Francis didn't let go until Arthur's shoulders had stopped shaking and his tears ceased. Finally Arthur drew back.

"Thanks," he said, wiping his face. "I needed that. I'm sorry," he turned to go, but Francis grabbed his hand.

"Let me take you home," Francis suggested.

Arthur pulled his hand away. "As if!"

Francis smiled. "Not for that. No funny business. I just want to make sure you're alright."

Arthur seemed to ponder that statement for a moment, then he nodded. "Okay." Francis placed his arm on his shoulder casually, like back when they were sixteen, getting drunk for the first time, each trying to drink more than the other before passing out(Francis won. He had been sipping small amounts of wine since he was a baby and was more accustomed to its effects.), back when they were best friends forever and best enemies forever, before everything changed that one day in their senior year of high school.


	13. Chapter 13

Lovino let Antonio sleep in the same bed as him that night. Antonio braced himself for Lovino's screams, but they never came. Eventually he fell asleep.

* * *

"Coffee?" Antonio offered. Lovino nodded and collapsed in the folding chair by the table. He looked up.

"You look terrible," Antonio commented.

"Thanks."

"No, really- are you okay?" Antonio hurried to his side. Upon closer view, he could see that Lovino's eyes were very bloodshot and his pallor was pale. Bloodshot eyes… was Lovino high?

Antonio almost didn't want to believe it, but he had to know. "How did you get that money, yesterday?" he blurted out. Lovino glanced at him.

"Doesn't matter, does it? I got it. You should be satisfied."

"I am- I'm happy that you made money, but _how?" _Lovino didn't answer. Antonio leaned in and whispered, "Did you acquire the money by legal means?"

Lovino thought for a second. "Not really."

"Did you sell drugs?"

"No."

"Then how did you get the money?" Antonio was thoroughly confused.

Lovino shook his head, looking at his fists clenched in his lap. "I don't- I'm- I'm not ready for this," he finally admitted.

Using both hands, Antonio brought Lovino's face up to his so they were eye to eye. "Lovino," he began, "It's real. There's no use in denying it or pretending it didn't happen, because sometime or later, you'll have to realize that it's the truth. You might as well get it over with."

"I…"

Antonio wasn't sure if bribing would work, but he decided to try it anyway. "You want a lollipop?" he offered. He always had a couple with him, to give to patients or just to hand out to kids in the street.

Lovino's whole body jerked and he pulled away from Antonio, standing up quickly. _"No!"_

"Why not?" Lovino didn't answer. "What's with you and lollipops, anyway?" he asked.

"I- haven't earned it yet." Lovino answered finally.

"Earned it? How do you earn it? When?"

"I don't think I'm ready for this."

"When _will _you be ready?" Antonio demanded. "Reality is harsh, but you need to get over it! There are people with worse situations than you. Stop whining and accept the truth!"

"The truth? You want the truth?"

"Yes!" Antonio exclaimed. "What happened during those nine years with your mother? How did you get the money to support her? How did you get those four hundred dollars from yesterday?"

"I sold myself."

_"What? _What does that mean?"

"I sold my body. I sold sex." Lovino said quietly.

"So you were…" Antonio trailed off, astonished.

"A prostitute? Yes." Lovino answered.

"But why?"

"I thought it would make my mother happy."

"Why would selling your ass make your mother happy?! That's sick!" Antonio was disgusted, not necessarily with Lovino, but with his reasoning. He couldn't believe that this… kid had done _that _to get money. Even selling drugs would be better, but _this… _

"She disliked me. She made it very clear, telling me, pointing out that Feliciano was better than me in every way- that he was cuter and happier and helped her more, that I was just a nuisance. After he left, she got worse, drinking more and berating me."

"Why would you want to make her happy? Why do you care? Why would you have sex with strangers, just so she could yell at you more?! What were you _thinking _when you sold yourself?!"

"It wasn't I who sold myself. It was her idea," Lovino said, his voice shaking slightly. "We were out of money. She sent me to the store to try to shoplift some more booze. A pimp lived near us. When he was walking home, and my mother was waiting outside for me to come back, she talked to him. First she asked if he could take her on, but he refused, saying she was too old. Then she offered me."

Antonio sat in silence, horrified.

"I was thirteen. When I came back, I wasn't exactly sure what was happening. The pimp- he asked me if it was okay. I thought- I thought if I brought back money, my mother would like me, would treat me better, and that's what I wanted. So I said okay."

"Why would you want your mother to like you when she was so horrible to you? Didn't you hate her?" Antonio questioned.

"My whole life, no one has ever loved me. No one has ever liked me or cared about me or wanted anything from me more than just sex. She was my mother, and even though she wasn't the kindest to me, she still was family. Of course I wanted her to like me, I wanted her to love me like how most mothers love their children, I wanted her to hug me and kiss me and tell me she loved me and that I was the most important thing to her. Is that really so wrong, to want to be loved?"

"Of course not," Antonio said softly. "But why her? Why not get a girlfriend or a boyfriend, or make friends, talk to people?"

"It wasn't necessarily that I just wanted her love. I just wanted love in general, to be liked and cared for. She was the main person in my life. Besides, I was a prostitute. Who would want to date someone who spent their time sleeping with people for money? Who would want to be friends with someone like me?"

Antonio rested a hand on Lovino's shaking shoulder. "I would."


	14. Chapter 14

Lovino shook his head. "No, you don't. You don't want to be friends with me; I can see it in your eyes. I disgust you."

"That's not true!" Antonio protested. But yet, part of it was. He couldn't believe that Lovino, this independent, witty, clever kid had become so dependent on the flighty human emotion Antonio could not fathom, that Lovino had thought to only way to make somebody like him would be to have sex with them. How low was this guy's self-esteem, his sense of worth?

"I disgusted my mother too. It's fine, I don't blame you. I disgust everyone." He was crying now, really crying, heaving sobs leaving his mouth. In an instant, Antonio forgot his horror and felt only sympathy and sadness for Lovino.

He just wanted to see Lovino smile again, just once, he wanted to make him grin and see his face light up, he wanted Lovino to forget his past and his troubles and enjoy himself. He just wanted to take Lovino into his arms and hold him so tight, squeeze all the pain out of him. He wanted Lovino to feel loved, to feel important and of worth.

But he didn't know how, he didn't know how he could help, he didn't know what he could do to make Lovino feel better, didn't know how to convey that it _wasn't _Lovino's fault, that Antonio didn't blame him, that he still was Antonio's friend and that Antonio would try to not think of him any differently for this. But he didn't know how, and so did nothing.

He waited until Lovino's sobs had died down a little, and then spoke. "Do you want to continue? I think it's important you let it all out."

Lovino nodded.

"Okay," Antonio began, making sure his tone of voice was kind and gentle and soothing. "Who was your pimp?"

"He was a nice man who gave me lollipops. They were a reward."

"For what?" Antonio asked.

"Intercourse."

"Did you have sex with him?"

"Yes, several times," Lovino said carefully. "He always gave me extra lollipops when I slept with him."

"Do you remember his name, what he looked like?" Antonio asked. He was angry right now, not with Lovino, but with the world, with this man, who was fine with selling a thirteen-year-old kid into the sex business.

"I don't know his name. That was one of his policies, that we didn't know his name. I remember what he looked like, though. But I don't want to tell you. I don't want to get him in trouble," Lovino said.

"After he slept with you, after he _sold _you, you're still protecting him? Why?!"

"Like I said, he was a nice man. He did what he had to to survive. Besides, he had power over us. He still has power over us, he knows our names and how to find us and who he can hurt to make us obey him. So I don't want to tell you, or anyone, really."

"When you say 'us,' do you mean the other prostitutes?"

"Yes. There were a couple guys, but mainly girls, mostly young, all under 25. I think the youngest was maybe twelve. There were a lot of addicts." Lovino had stopped crying now, and was speaking quietly, without emotion or feeling. Antonio supposed it was the only way to stop himself from hurting too much.

"Where is your mother now? Did you leave her?"

"She's dead. After a job I came back home, but it was on fire. I looked for her, but she was gone, must have died in the fire."

Antonio nodded. He patted Lovino's back awkwardly. "I'm sorry." He looked at Lovino, who was still hunched over, face in his hands. "I think that's enough. Are you okay? Can I get you anything?"

He was worried about Lovino, worried that he might have pushed him too far, asked more than Lovino wanted to answer. But at the same time, he was glad that he had finally gotten the truth out of him.

"I'll be fine," Lovino said after a moment. His voice was small, minute, and he seemed deflated. "Could you…" he began, and then stopped and shook his head. "No, sorry. That was stupid," he said.

"What did you want me to do?"

Even though Lovino was looking down, his face at an angle where Antonio could barely see his expression, he saw a blush creep up his face. "Could you maybe… hug me?" He looked up, pleadingly, his eyes glistening. He looked so afraid, like a small child who had never had the chance to grow up, still frightened of the dark and the monsters waiting inside.

Antonio softened. His chest, his heart hurt, really hurt. "Of course." He reached out his arms and drew them tightly around Lovino, pulling him in close. Tentative hands reached around his back and clutched him tightly. He felt Lovino's shoulders quake, as tears spilled over from his eyes, wetting Antonio's t-shirt. Lovino made no sound and cried, silently, as Antonio held him close, one hand stroking his hair.

He kissed the top of Lovino's head gently, not sexually or extremely romantically, but like a doting parent would to a child, after tucking them in and reading bedtime stories. He felt a shiver run through Lovino's body and Lovino cried harder, soaking Antonio's shirt.

"I've always wanted someone to do that," he choked. "I never thought it would actually happen,"

"Why would you think that?" Antonio whispered. "You're still young. There's still time to make friends, to fall in love. You have a whole life ahead of you,"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm scared. I'm scared people will hate me or hurt me or that I will hurt them, I'm scared of talking to people and interacting and joking because I don't know how, I don't know what to do or what to say or how they will react because I've never done that before. I'm scared of meeting new people and holding hands and having sex and falling in love because it's just too terrifying. More people creates more complications and then more communication and interaction and that's too much. I'd rather not do it at all," Lovino explained.

"It's true, that it can be scary or painful. But the benefits it creates, the joy you get from spending time with people you like and doing new things and creating memories far outweighs the risks. I don't know anything about love, but I hear it can be wonderful and terrifying at the same time, like a ride at an amusement park. It's a whirlwind and you're screaming and laughing and having a good time and you're scared but you're enjoying yourself, the ups and downs and twists and turns just make it all the more interesting. It's the complications of life, that make it happy. So hiding from everything will just result in more unhappiness. Do you understand?"

"Yeah,"

Antonio thought for a moment. "When you were… you know, what did you do, exactly?"

Lovino looked up. "Excuse me?"

"Like, what was the routine? I'm just curious. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine."

Lovino sighed. "Well, I'd stand in an alleyway or by a carpark or a bar. Someone would come up and ask how much. I'd tell them the price and we'd go in a hotel or their car or a dark alley, and have sex. You know, 'Put your hands on me,'" he said in a sort of fake sleazy, sexy tone that Antonio had never heard him use before. "'Yeah, touch me there, I'll make you squeal, baby,'" Lovino paused and looked at Antonio, who was staring at him, wide eyed, mouth open.

Antonio had a sudden image flash through his mind- him and Lovino, together, Lovino speaking in that sexy voice, Antonio's mouth on Lovino's, kissing his way down his neck and collarbone, making Lovino moan, begging for more. "That kinda stuff. You know?" Lovino continued and Antonio jolted out of his daydream and hastily nodded.

Wait.

"You used protection, right? Condoms?" Antonio asked suddenly.

"Most of the time."

"Have you ever been tested for STDs or AIDS?" Lovino shook his head. "Tomorrow I'll get you tested," Antonio finished.

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Oh boy," he said sarcastically, "can't wait."

* * *

Gilbert crept through the backyard, hiding behind the bushes like the stealth master he thought he was. Looking both ways quickly, he raced to the nearest bush, squatting so he was unseen. Or so he thought.

"I can see you, you know," a woman's voice called out.

Shit. He would have to use his special tactics of persuasion, Wienerschnitzel Sharp Tongue Move 2 of the Gilbert Beilschmidt Martial Arts Academy(one member, and that was Gilbert, the Grand Master).

"No I'm not," he yelled back. The woman sighed.

"Gilbert, come out. I can see you. You have white hair and a purple tie for god's sake, of course I can see you."

Slowly he crept out from behind the bush. "I brought you some flowers," he said. The woman raised her eyebrows.

"You just picked those from my garden. They still have dirt and roots dangling off the bottom,"

"Hey, thought that counts, right? Just take the fucking flowers."

"Those are my flowers. You stole them from my garden and now you're giving them back to me? How romantic," the woman rolled her eyes but Gilbert stood firmly, his gaze fixed at her. Eventually she shrugged. "Come on in,"

Gilbert nodded and stepped up onto the porch where she was. He handed her the flower and she took it, gently and held it up to her nose.

"Thanks," she said. She opened the screen door to her house and Gilbert stepped in, followed by her, her long brown hair swishing as she walked. "Can I get you a drink?" she asked.

"Do you have apple juice?"

She laughed. "You haven't changed at all, have you?" She smiled warmly. "Of course I do. I keep it just in case you decide to swing around." She poured him a glass and he chugged it quickly, the honey-colored liquid pouring down his throat.

"How have you been?" she asked when he had put down his empty glass.

"Alright." Gilbert paused for a moment. "Why him?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why did you marry _him?" _

She sighed. "We've been over this before. He's a nice man, and I like him very much. That's all I have to say on the matter."

"But you don't love him."

She looked down at her hands, folded on the counter she was leaning on, facing Gilbert who was standing on the other side. She twisted her wedding ring absentmindedly, as if trying to formulate an answer or excuse.

"I would rather you didn't say such things," she said finally, pursing her lips.

"But it's true," Gilbert insisted. "Admit it." She shook her head. He sighed. "Why him? Why not me?"

She said nothing.

"I still love you."

"Is that all you came here for?" she said. "Is it really love? Or is it just self-doubt, a puncture in your ego because I chose Roderich and not you? They may sound different, but they're similar.

"I married Roderich and not you, and that caused your ego to deflate. You think that it is because of love, that you are jealous, but really you just see me as a goal or a trophy, I think, to get your ego back up to speed. That's not love, Gilbert, as much as you want to think it is.

"Maybe you once loved me. Maybe I once loved you. But not anymore, Gilbert. I'm married to a nice man in a nice house with a nice life. Why would I want to change? Give me a reason- why should I have married you?"

"You're bored." Gilbert blurted. She frowned.

"What?"

"It's true, you have a nice house and a nice life and a nice man, but that's boring! What happened to the old you, the one that climbed over chain-link fences into old junkyards and who played swordfights with yardsticks in the math classroom? What happened to the girl who taught me how to smoke cigarettes properly and beat up Jake Donovan in freshman year of high school? Where did she go?"

The woman sighed. "I grew up, Gil. That girl- she's not here anymore. I'm sorry, but the girl you fell in love with is gone."

"I can bring her back! I can bring _you _back!" he insisted.

"I'm sorry, Gil. It's a lost cause." She patted his hand gently. "You're a nice guy. Go and find a better girl, one that climbs over chain-link fences and plays swordfights in math class."

Gilbert folded his arms. "No." She raised one eyebrow. Gilbert reached into his pocket and drew out a pack of cigarettes. He shook one out into his hand and placed it in his mouth- the wrong way. He got out his lighter and the flame was just touching the end, the wrong end, and-

_"No!"_

The woman grabbed the cigarette, turned it around, lit it, and handed it back to Gilbert. "That's how you do it," she said.

One side of Gilbert's mouth twitched upwards. He ran out of the open screen door back into the backyard and drew a stake that had been holding up a grapevine out of the soil. He swung it towards her, scattering dirt everywhere and into the clean and tidy house. Her eyebrows furrowed and she grinned fiercely.

"Oh no you don't," she countered, running over, and pulled out another stake, brandishing it toward Gilbert. "At arms, soldier."

Gilbert beamed. "En guard, Elizabeta."


	15. Chapter 15

Lovino sat by the phone, anxious, chewing his nails nervously. Finally it ran and he sprang for the phone.

"Yes," he answered. "Yes, I understand. Thank you very much." He placed the phone back in its holder.

"How is it?" Antonio asked.

"Negative. No STDs or AIDS."

Antonio breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank god." He thought for a moment. "We should tell Roma and Feliciano," he said.

"What? That I don't have AIDS? I'm sure they'll be very happy to hear that," Lovino rolled his eyes.

"No, about your past- about the prostitution. They have a right to know."

"I'd rather not tell them," Lovino said, looking down. "Not yet."

"Alright," Antonio compromised. "But soon."

* * *

"To celebrate you finally spilling the beans, why don't we go out for dinner tonight? We don't have much food in the house anyway," Antonio suggested.

Lovino shrugged. "Fine with me."

* * *

They took the subway to the city, the train car immensely packed tight with people. Lovino was pressed up right against Antonio and Antonio could feel Lovino's heart beating quickly. It was hot and stuffy, but not _that _hot… why was Lovino so red? Did he have a fever?

"Do you feel okay?" Antonio asked. Lovino looked up.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well, it's just that your heart is beating really fast and you're all red so I wondered if you have a fever. Do you want to go back home?" Antonio offered.

Lovino shook his head, his face still bright red. The train turned a sudden corner, jerking everyone to the side. Lovino stumbled and Antonio grabbed him before he fell, pulling him in as the train stopped and even more passengers got on. Once the train was steady again, he let go and Lovino stepped back, his face even redder than it was before, if that was possible.

Finally they got to the city and found a small hamburger joint that smelt good. They were greeted by a pretty, smiling waitress and were shown to their seats, her hand resting on the small of Antonio's back.

"How are you tonight?" she asked, kindly, looking at Antonio.

"Alright," he answered. "All the better for seeing you," he grinned cheekily.

She laughed "Oh, stop. What can I get you two?"

Antonio looked her up and down. "Well, I know what I want. Lovino?"

"Cheeseburger," he mumbled, his face buried in the menu.

She wrote it down on a little notepad. "And you, sir?"

Antonio leaned forward and she bent down. He whispered something in her ear and she smiled wider and blushed. She wrote something down, again, but then tore it out of her notepad and handed it to Antonio, who took it gratefully. Lovino peeked over the side of his menu and saw that it was her number:

'Amy 1-593-877 XXX CALL ME'

Lovino grimaced and hid his face in the menu once again, but she coolly reached over and plucked it out of his hands, as well as Antonio's, and left, giving a little backhand flirty wave to Antonio. Lovino made a puking noise.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Antonio asked again. "You seem a little strange tonight."

_"Yes, _I'm fine," Lovino insisted.

"I'm not sure that you are." Antonio placed his hand on Lovino's forehead, his fingers brushing against that one curl that always stood up. He rubbed it absentmindedly and Lovino gave a little yelp and Antonio felt Lovino's face heat up.

"D-Don't touch me there!" Lovino gasped after a second. Antonio frowned.

"You mean here?" he tugged gently on the curl. Lovino clapped his hand over his mouth to suppress what sounded like- a moan?

"What the fuck is going on with your hair?" Antonio questioned. Lovino smacked his hand away and grabbed his glass of water and chugged it all down in one gulp, slamming the empty cup on the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Doesn't matter," he said.

"But you just, like, orgasmed or something."

"I did _not!"_

"Is that curl like… a second penis?" Antonio queried, wide eyed, unbelieving.

"No, it is not!"

"You have _two _penises? Lucky, I only have one!"

_"I DO NOT HAVE TWO PENISES!" _Lovino yelled. The whole hamburger joint quieted. Antonio heard a fork clatter to the ground. "Fuck," Lovino muttered. He pulled Antonio up out of his seat. "C'mon, let's go."

"But the food isn't here yet," Antonio protested.

"Fuck the food," Lovino said. "Let's _go!"_

"You want to have _sex _with the _food?!" _

"Goddammit Antonio, let's just leave!"

* * *

They arrived back at Antonio's apartment reasonably early, around eight. Lovino kicked off his shoes and collapsed on the couch yawning, but Antonio stayed in the doorway, staring at a little slip of paper.

"What is it?" Lovino asked, but he already knew.

"I'm just going to nip out for a bit," Antonio said quickly, stuffing the paper in his back pocket. "I'll be back 'round ten-thirty at the latest. Don't wait up,"

"Bye," Lovino said solemnly, but he was already gone.


	16. Chapter 16

Antonio swung open the door at eleven am the next morning, his clothes rumpled and shirt unevenly buttoned. "I'm back," he called.

"How was she?"

"Excuse me?" Antonio asked. He stepped into the apartment and saw Lovino leaning against the counter, four or five empty mugs, drained of what looked like coffee next to him, a steaming mug in his hands. His eyes looked red and puffy, as if he had been crying, but Antonio decided to dismiss that detail and focus more on the gallons of coffee Lovino must have consumed and his rather pointed question.

"You said you'd be back by ten-thirty. I waited all night for you," he gulped down some coffee.

"Wow, clingy much?" Antonio said sarcastically, without thinking. As soon as he finished the sentence, he regretted it, for Lovino stared into the dregs of the mug in his hand.

"You're right," Lovino said after a moment. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's fine," Antonio rushed. He paused. "Really? All night?"

"Yes. Well, at first I was worried, then I panicked, then I realized I was being an idiot and that I knew exactly where you were and what and who you were doing and I just didn't want to acknowledge that, and I was stupid and I should go to sleep but I couldn't sleep, and-"

"I get it."

Lovino nodded and sipped his coffee morosely.

"Why did you care?" Antonio asked after a moment. Lovino looked up.

"Why?"

"You said that you didn't want to acknowledge that I was having sex with Amy, but I don't get why. You of all people should understand humans thirst for coitus. I mean, you've slept with hundreds of people, and I don't care, so why do you?"

Lovino didn't answer and instead chugged down the rest of his coffee and placed the mug next to the others. "I'm going to take a shower." He closed the door of the bathroom and Antonio heard the water run after a moment. He sighed and flicked on the TV.

Amy had been great, really great. It had been a one night stand, just a little fling, and that was fine. Antonio guessed that since he had finally fulfilled his hopes of getting laid and therefore had no need to continue with his search for 'love.'

_I guess my quest to find 'love' is over, _he thought. _I doubt it exists anyway, just something hippies and emos whine about as they strum their guitars. I was stupid for even giving 'love' a chance. I mean, sure, I very briefly wanted to sleep with Lovino, but that was just because I was lonely and horny and I'm not now. It was just a stupid phase, and I'm over it. I'm over _him.

* * *

"And then I _*hic*_ said to him, _*hic_* 'I love you' and he's all _*hic*_ 'Dude, I'm not gay," and I'm _*hic*_ 'You're one of the gayest persons I've met, what the bloody hell are you _*hic* _talking about,' and he's all-"

"Alright, Arthur, I think you've had enough to drink now." Francis pushed the half-empty mug to the side where the other eight mugs were and Arthur made a grab for it, but missed by a long shot. "Why don't we go home?"

"But Alfred- _*hic*_ I mean, he's even gayer that _*hic*_ _me! _I mean, he does that _*hic*_ adorable little dance thing to the _*hic*_ soap commercial jingle with the cute guy advertising it! How is that _*hic*_ not gay?!" Arthur clutched at Francis, grabbing his shirt. "Tell me that's not _*hic* _gay!"

"Arthur, dear, just because someone may _seem _gay or is friends with gay people, doesn't mean that they are gay. Many straight men dance to soap commercial jingles." Francis gently pried Arthur's fingers off his shirt. "I really think I should take you home now."

"I dun wanna go _*hic*_home! There's nothing _*hic*_ left there for me anyway! There's nothing left to live for… I should _*hic*_ drink myself to death, drown in beer, now _that'll _be a nice _*hic*_ way to go…" Arthur's head drooped as he slowly became sleepier and sleepier.

"I think you're being a bit drastic," Francis said dryly. He stood up and pulled Arthur away from the counter and half dragged him out, Arthur stumbling drunkenly behind him. Francis placed Arthur's arm over his shoulder so he could support him better, to ensure that Arthur didn't fall, pass out, or harm himself on the way back to his house.

"Do you still live where you used to?" Francis asked Arthur, and he shook his head no. "Where do you live? Arthur?" He shook Arthur but he just drooped sleepily. Francis sighed and hefted him onto his back and began walking.

* * *

Lovino didn't seem to be talking much, the past few days, after Antonio slept with Amy, but Antonio couldn't figure out why. Lovino didn't even make sharp, pessimistic comments that much anymore, and when he did, they were half-hearted, as if his wit had disappeared.

Even though Antonio knew he wasn't to blame for this -he had just gone and slept with someone, his sex life didn't affect Lovino at all, right?- he still felt as if it was somehow his fault that he could count on one hand the number of times he had seen Lovino really smile.

Watching Lovino slouch around the house, not sleeping and drinking endless amounts of coffee and holing himself up in the bathroom so he didn't have to see or talk to Antonio, watching him barely eat, not leaving the apartment for three days, just made Antonio feel even worse. Now, all he wanted was to see Lovino smile, to make him smile again, but he wasn't sure how he could.

By the fourth day, Antonio had had enough.

"Grab a coat," he said to Lovino, who was sitting on the couch reading a magazine. "We're going out."

Antonio shrugged. "Dunno. Somewhere."

"What's the point?"

"You haven't been out of the house in four days," Antonio pointed out. "You need some fresh air."

"That's stupid. _You're _stupid."

"Yeah, okay maybe I am stupid, but at least I go to work and get some exercise, unlike a certain someone I know," Antonio was getting mad, fed up with Lovino's attitude the past few days. "You've eaten next to nothing, gone through three packs of cigarettes, my house smells of smoke, and I put up with it for this attitude? I don't think so."

Lovino crossed his arms defiantly.

"Either you behave like an adult, or you don't live with me anymore, got it?" Antonio continued.

Lovino glared at him for a moment. "Fine," he said. "Bye then."

* * *

_One day later_

"Goddamit," Antonio grunted under his breath, the cold air seemed to pierce straight through him like a ghost and he wished he had brought his coat. He thrust his hands in his pockets, trying to warm up, and kept on walking, his breath coming out in cold puffs.

Where the _fuck_ did Lovino go? He couldn't go back to his apartment, Roma wasn't about to suddenly welcome Lovino in with open arms and he was pretty sure Lovino had no idea where or who his brother was staying with.

But he couldn't think of anyplace else, and so headed to Lovino's apartment.

* * *

Slowly creaking the door open, he peeked through the cracks. Lovino's father wasn't in there. Antonio breathed a sigh of relief and closed it behind him, leaning against the door for a moment, blowing on his hands to warm them up.

Wait.

If Lovino's father wasn't in the house, where was he?

"Need a coat?"

Antonio swiveled around, his fists at the ready, but Lovino's father merely handed him a coat, then raised his hands above his head.

"It's Lovino's. Here's some clothes of his," Lovino's father sighed and handed Antonio a garbage bag. Befuddled, Antonio took it. Lovino's father's retrieved a pack of cigarettes from the folds of his coat and shook one out. "Want one?" he offered.

"No thanks. I don't smoke,"

Lovino's father raised an eyebrow. "A man of high morals, eh?" Antonio didn't answer and he sighed, and placed the cigarette in his mouth. "Suit yourself." He lit it, placing his hand around the small flame. Once it was lit, he breathed in deeply and then exhaled. "Ah. That's better," he said. He held out one hand.

"I'm Ado Vargas, but most people call me Sicily- it's a long story. It's nice meeting you,"

Antonio took it hesitantly. "Antonio Carriedo. It's a pleasure."

Ado nodded. "Looking for Lovino?"

"Yeah."

"Me too." Antonio bristled and Ado shook his hands in a sort of 'no' gesture. "Don't worry, it's for nothing dubious. I won't hurt him. I just want to talk," he said.

"Talk? Like you did the other day?" Antonio spat, incredulous.

Ado looked away. "I didn't mean for that to happen. I wanted to apologize, but- whenever I'm around Lovino… I just snap. He pisses me off and I can't help it, I lose control and I just want to hurt him, wipe him out, squash him like a bug because he just- I don't know." He shook his head sadly and took another drag on his cigarette, but Antonio wasn't convinced.

"I'm sure he's a good guy, or maybe was originally, before I got to him. But- it's just.. _him. _I don't know why, but something in me makes me want to wipe the grin off his face and make sure he never does again, and then when I'm done and he's lying in the corner and Feliciano is crying over him, I hate myself and I hate him for making me do that and that just makes me angrier and- well, you get the idea."

Antonio nodded, dumbfounded. He had always thought of Lovino's father, Ado, as just a bad guy but not a human, with emotions and feelings, like he was. He had never considered that villains were actually people too.

"I got out of prison. I wanted to come clean, apologize for everything, but instead, I just end up screwing things up more. Just like I always do," he exhaled, smoke mixing with the puffs of breath condensation in the air. "In jail, they do tests, you know? Mental tests?"

Antonio just stared at him blankly.

"Ah, never mind. You're too clean-cut a guy to know what jail is. But anyway. Bipolar disorder, that's what they said. And anger issues too. Apparently I have to identify what my triggers are and all this psychological vocabulary bullshit, and then 'come to terms' with the trigger. In this case, the trigger is Lovino."

Antonio nodded. "I understand. I can try to help him and you get on good terms, but you should know, as I'm sure you already do, he's not an easy patient."

Ado frowned. "Patient?"

Antonio smacked his forehead with his palm. "Oh, that's right. I'm not actually his boyfriend. I'm his therapist, but he's living with me at the moment. I didn't know what to say, so- I said the first thing that came to mind."

Ado shook his head disbelievingly. "You really are an idiot. But thanks," he clapped Antonio's shoulder. "I appreciate the honesty, even if it is a bit late." He laughed. "Good thing you _weren't _his actual boyfriend, or else I would have to beat you up. I don't want to hear that my son is a faggot, let alone giving his ass to someone or _anyone." _

Antonio laughed nervously. He hoped that Ado never found out what Lovino's past profession was or the _real _shitstorm would begin to brew. "I'll go find Lovino," he suggested. Ado nodded.

"Yeah, you do that."


	17. Chapter 17

Arthur opened his eyes. He sat up and then put a hand to his pounding head. "Fuck," he muttered, and groped around for a glass of whisky, rum, scotch, beer- anything. Instead his hand landed on something warm and soft. He blinked and rubbed his eyes.

"UAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Francis sat up. "Jesus fuck, is that how you usually wake up? I was sleeping!"

"W-w-why are you-why am I-bed-naked-what-" Arthur stammered.

Francis rolled his eyes. "Relax. I always sleep naked. And your clothes were wet after it started raining, when I tried to carry you home but realized I don't know where you live. I brought you to a cheap, nearby love hotel, washed and dried your clothes and put you in bed, and this is the thanks I get?"

"Why are we- _love hotel? Naked? _We didn't… we didn't have _sex, _right?"

Francis didn't answer, and instead smiled knowingly.

Arthur buried his face in his hands. "I thought my life couldn't get any worse…I was wrong."

Francis patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Relax. We didn't have sex. You asked for it, but I figured it wasn't the best time."

"I _what?!" _

"You heard me."

"Oh god. Where's that Japanese guy when you need him, Kiku.. Subaru? Toyota? Something with a car… anyway, I need him to teach me how to commit ritual seppuku."

"Sounds a bit drastic."

"Better than having sex with _you," _Arthur retorted. Francis merely raised an eyebrow. "Where are my clothes?" Arthur asked after a moment, looking around.

"That chair over there," Francis nodded towards a little chair where Arthur's clothes were folded neatly in a little stack.

"Thanks," Arthur mumbled. "Close your eyes," he said sharply to Francis, who laughed but covered his eyes with his hands. Arthur got out of the bed and headed over to the small chair, bending over to pick up his clothes.

"Nice view," Francis commented.

"I told you not to look!" Arthur threw the shirt he was holding at Francis without thinking, the cloth landing on Francis's face. "Fuck," he said, seeing where the shirt was resting. He pulled on his pants and the rest of his clothes and stomped over to Francis, pulling the shirt off his face and putting it on quickly.

"Thanks for everything," he said, and left. Francis leaned back and sighed, resting his head on the headboard.

Arthur _had _cared about him? Maybe not exactly romantically, but still… there had been something there, right? Francis was a strong believer that nothing was gone forever, especially love or feelings, and that everything could be brought back and restored.

He decided: he was going to make Arthur fall in love with him again.

* * *

"Lovino!" Antonio called, his hands to his mouth, but he got no response. Annoyed, he kicked a pebble and watched it roll and jump a couple times, and then slow to a stop. Antonio recalled his soccer days, where him and Gilbert and Francis would go to that old field and kick a crumpled ball around. Francis almost always lost, attributing his losses to bad weather or bad luck or god being lazy, when it was really because he spent more time trying to catch any viewers' eyes than trying to catch the ball.

Antonio chuckled at the memory fondly and bent down to pick up the pebble. He grinned and threw it into the air, and then kicked it as if it was his old soccer ball, watching it arc into the air and fall down somewhere behind some apartments, by where Lovino's old trailer had been.

"Ow!" he heard someone's voice yell. "Fuck," the voice mumbled, and then repeated, louder, "I'll get you for that, you bastard!"

Bastard? Antonio knew only one person who could spit out that word with such venom and vigor, and that was Lovino. Startled, he broke into a run, going to where that voice had sounded.

"First, I'll… uh.. I'll cut your balls off!" the voice that could only have been Lovino's continued. "Then, I'll make you eat them! And then, then I'll…" the voice trailed off and Antonio laughed. He slowed down as he reached the old trailer, with a very very drunk Lovino stumbling in front of it, yelling at the sky, brandishing a half empty wine bottle and taking a swig out of it every so often.

Antonio couldn't help but laugh at the sight; Lovino had spilled wine down his shirt and looked almost like a sodden muskrat, his hair unkempt and sticking up, a bit of dried spittle surrounding his mouth. If Antonio didn't know any better, he would have thought he was an old crazy man babbling about the world ending in a subway station in New York.

Lovino looked to where the laugh had come from and saw Antonio. Antonio could practically _see _the anger bubbling. "What're _you _lookin' at?!" he yelled, gesturing wildly, wine sloshing out of the bottle.

"You," Antonio replied, grinning. Lovino looked taken aback, as if he hadn't expected an answer.

"Well stop looking!" he said.

"But you're so adorable," Antonio said. Lovino looked strange, albeit crazy, but there was still that spark of liveliness and gritty humor that Antonio realized with a jolt, attracted Antonio to him.

Antonio wasn't sure if Lovino was blushing or if he was just drunk, but whatever it was, Lovino's face seemed redder than it had been before.

"Yeah, well so are you!" Lovino shouted as if it was an insult. It was Antonio's turn to be taken aback, he took a step backwards, confused.

"Am I?" he asked.

"Yeah, you're like a little fucking marshmallow I just wanna take your face and _squish _it, you're so fluffy and shit man, like a puppy or whatever and it's really fucking annoying cause you're just so goddamn _cute.."_

Antonio raised his eyebrows. "I'm gonna have to get you drunk more often," he mumbled. He was not used to compliments from Lovino, and even though he knew Lovino was just babbling in a drunken stupor without any meaning, he was flattered. He could feel something, like a bubble well up in his chest and he just felt like grinning and yelling to the sky, 'Lovino thinks I'm cute!'

Antonio grinned lopsidedly and Lovino glared. "There you go again with your fucking _face!" _Lovino yelled. He stomped over, dropping the wine bottle and grabbed Antonio's face with his hands, squishing his cheeks together, screwing Antonio's face tight. Lovino glared into Antonio's eyes and he was afraid of what Lovino was going to do next, but Lovino closed his eyes and leaned in, standing on his tiptoes and pursed his lips as if he was going to kiss Antonio, and then puked all over his face, letting go of Antonio and stepping back, stumbling, and sank to the ground.

Antonio blinked, and with his shirt sleeve, wiped the vomit off of him as best as he could. "That was unexpected," he said after a moment. He nudged Lovino gently with his shoe, fearing that if he got too close he would be a victim of another one of Lovino's projectile vomits. Lovino snored gently.

Antonio sighed, bent down, and picked him up, straining a bit, and then hoisted Lovino's still snoring body onto his back.

"Honestly, the shit I go through.." he mumbled, and set out for home.

* * *

Antonio felt Lovino's small body stir from underneath the covers of his bed, and slowly a dark brown-haired head poked out from under the blankets like a turtle sticking its head out of its shell.

"What happened?" Lovino groaned and held a hand to his head.

"You got really drunk, told me I was cute, tried to kiss me, and then puked all over me. And then you passed out and I carried you home. You alright?"

Lovino groaned again and sank back under the covers. "Nope, not getting out of bed today," he said. Antonio laughed and patted where he assumed Lovino's shoulder was, as he couldn't actually see him, only a little lump under the covers. He frowned. It felt surprisingly.. squishy and warm and round, not really like a shoulder at all and he touched it again, trying to get a feel of what it was.

"That's my butt, idiot."

Antonio pulled his hand away as if he was touching hot coals. "Sorry!" he apologized quickly, and the lump under the covers constricted. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to, I thought it was your shoulder," he said, feeling stupid, like he always did.

Even though Antonio couldn't see Lovino, he still knew he was rolling his eyes. "It's fine."

"Are you sure, I mean, I can make it up to you- you can touch my butt if you want as revenge, I-" he stammered.

"If I said it's fine, it's fine. Now go leave me alone so I can wallow in self-hate and die in a hole." Lovino commanded. Antonio laughed.

"Don't worry about it!" he said lightly. "Everyone has embarrassing times where they get drunk and in a fit of temporary insanity try to make out with someone! Hell, that's happened to me about," Antonio paused and counted for a moment, "seventy-two times!"

Lovino didn't answer.

Antonio laughed awkwardly. "It was funny though, I mean- you tried to kiss me, that was weird, and you called me cute, that was _really_ weird, I'll have to get you drunk again, hehe… Lovino?"

Lovino slammed the bathroom door in his face, still clutching the blankets from the bed. Antonio sighed and flopped down onto the bed, then rolled over until he got to the edge of the bed, rolled off, and onto the floor with a thump. Not wanting to get up, he crawled army-style to the kitchen, to make Lovino some coffee.

* * *

"Got you!" Elizabeta laughed fiercely and pinned Gilbert down on the ground, climbing on top of him, legs on either side of his body, sitting on his stomach so he couldn't move, one hand on his wrists, the other aiming her garden stake/sword at Gilbert's neck. She leaned forward and Gilbert grinned and struggled, and-

"Elizabeta? What is this?" Roderich stepped into the yard.

"It's- it's not what it looks like!" she stammered, climbing off of Gilbert quickly, so he could get up.

"It's _exactly _what it looks like!" Gilbert exclaimed proudly. She rolled her eyes.

"No, it's not. We were just… swordfighting."

Roderich raised one eyebrow. "Swordfighting?"

"Yes," Elizabeta said, fixing him with a steady gaze.

"No!" Gilbert interjected, raising a hand in the air. "We were making sweet passionate love and-" His words were cut off as Elizabeta whacked him hard over the head with her fist, smiling innocently at her husband.

Roderich looked from Elizabeta to Gilbert to Elizabeta again. "I see," he said carefully. "Elizabeta, please come into the house." He looked at Gilbert disapprovingly. "If you would excuse us," he said, pushed his glasses up his nose, took Elizabeta's hand and led her into the house, closing the door firmly behind him.


	18. Chapter 18

"Lovino! I made coffee!" Antonio called. He heard the bathroom door swing open and bare feet pad into the kitchen. A stray hand grabbed the steaming mug of coffee on the counter, turned around, and walked back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Antonio laughed half-heartedly. His plan to goad Lovino out of the bathroom hadn't worked, and he didn't know what else would. He walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door with the back of his lazy fist.

"Lovi, please come out," he said. "Come out and we can talk over this like adults instead of acting like kindergartners."

The door opened slowly and Lovino came out slowly, determinedly not looking at Antonio, and sat down huffily on the couch. Antonio walked over and sat next to him. "How you doing?" he asked carefully.

"Fine."

"That's good." They sat in silence for a minute. "You know, I don't think any differently of you because of your little… escapade. You're still my friend,"

Lovino smiled bitterly. "Yeah. Friends."

Antonio didn't know what he meant, so instead he switched on the TV. Stretching, he placed his arm around Lovino's shoulder surreptitiously. After a moment, he looked at Lovino curiously. His head was down, and he was surprised to see Lovino's clenched fists clutching his jeans, the cloth bunching around his curled fingers. Antonio felt his shoulders shake under his arm.

"You alright?" he asked, but Lovino smacking his arm away from his shoulder.

"I hate you," he sobbed.

"Come again?"

_"I hate you!" _Lovino stood up and fled into the bathroom again, slamming the door behind him. Antonio got up and knocked on the door, for the second time that day.

"Lovino, come on, don't be like this," he called. "Let's talk this over so we can get whatever misunderstanding there is between us out of the way."

"Just leave me alone."

Antonio didn't have the energy to argue, nor did he want to. So instead he sat down against the wall adjacent to the bathroom and waited.

* * *

Lovino opened the door a crack and looked out. Antonio was slumped against the opposite wall, snoring gently. With every breath a little strand of hair popped up, supported by the air.

He opened the door wider and closed it behind him as he stepped out silently and made his way to the kitchen. A floorboard creaked and he paused, hearing Antonio stir. Hastily he tiptoed to the fridge and opened it, grabbing some foodstuffs and hurrying back to the bathroom. He opened the door and almost made it in, but something shot out and grabbed his ankle, forcing him to remain stationary.

"If you would let go, please," Lovino whispered, irritated.

"Why? Just sit down and we can eat together like normal friends," Antonio replied calmly.

"Because I'm pissed at you and I'm trying to not be a horrible person anymore but it's really hard with you around!"

"Why are you mad at me? What did I do?"

"I don't know, it's just- there's something about you that- anyway, it makes me angry, that's what I'm saying." Lovino said, stopping midsentence and rewriting his words, correcting himself. He shivered. "Is your place usually this cold?"

"No, not usually, but I couldn't afford the heating bill this month, so…" Antonio grinned cheekily. "Lemme get a blanket."

"A blanket would be nice," Lovino agreed, rubbing his arms. Antonio got up and went to his bedroom. A minute later, he called out,

"Lovi? I was just going to get the blanket from my bed, but that would mess up my bed, soooo… can we just both get in the bed?"

Lovino raised an eyebrow. "You want me to get into bed with you?"

"Yeah, exactly! You coming?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'm coming." He put the food back in the fridge and hurried over and dived in the bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin. They lay together in silence for a minute. "Don't you have any warmer blankets?" Lovino complained.

Antonio winced. "Not really. Here, this'll warm you up." He reached out with both arms and pulled Lovino to his chest in one fluid motion. Lovino spluttered.

"W-what are you doing?!"

"Warming you up. See, your face is already all red!" Lovino glared at him. "Why, is it not comfortable?" he asked.

"No, it's- it's comfortable…" Lovino trailed off.

"Then there's no problem," Antonio said happily. He squeezed Lovino tighter, hearing a little gasp escape Lovino's lips. "Too tight?" he asked.

"No, just let me.. switch positions a bit." Lovino shifted his body upward so that his face was directly across from Antonio.

"Hello," Antonio smiled.

"Hi."

"Aaah, you're so cuuuute!" Antonio buried his face in Lovino's neck holding him close- really, really close. Lovino shifted positions again, his leg accidentally brushing against Antonio's groin. His eyes went wide.

Antonio laughed nervously. "Yeah… sorry 'bout that… uh.."

Lovino rolled his eyes. "It's fine. I'll take care of it."

"Oh, okay. Wait. _What?!"_ Antonio screeched as Lovino delved under the blankets. "Lovino, what are you doing!" He felt his pants being tugged down and then something warm and wet- Lovino's mouth, and he couldn't contain himself as Lovino began to suck and he felt like a little baby, his fingers raking through Lovino's hair, yelping and moaning, heavenly gasping, "Lo-Lovi_nooo.."_

_No! This isn't right, _he thought, feverish, _I'm his therapist, he was a prostitute, I'm supposed to be helping him, not extorting blowjobs from him, this is so wrong, what am I doing- I'm a terrible person, how could I do this, this is wrong, so so wrong- _and yet Lovino's mouth felt so _right, _and he couldn't stop himself from screaming Lovino's name as he came, as thoughts raced through his head and Antonio realized what had just happened-

Lovino pulled away and twisted upwards, to kiss Antonio, but all he could see and think was disgust, how horrible this was, how disgusting he had been and he couldn't take it and he pushed Lovino away and ran off the bed, pulling up his trousers and stumbling to his feet.

"Antonio," he heard Lovino call, murkily, as if through water, and felt another wave of disgust pass through him.

"Don't touch me!" he screamed, and slammed the door, leaving Lovino alone and desolate in his empty apartment.

* * *

"You did _what?!" _Francis spit out his drink. "How could you?"

Antonio was inconsolable. "I don't know, it just happened and he felt it and then he went down and I didn't know how to stop, he felt so good…" he looked up pleadingly. "Francis, what do I do?"

Francis shook his head. "I can't believe you did that. How could you be so stupid? If you were that desperate to get off, you could have gone into town and picked someone up, not _him! God, _you'll have to apologize- he can't stay with you anymore, it's too hard on him, the poor kid- do you _know _what he was?!"

"Yes," Antonio replied tearfully. "He told me."

"He trusted you enough to tell you and you _betrayed _him! Anyone would do, why _him, _for god's sake?!"

"I don't know, it just happened and I didn't know what to do, I don't- what do I _do, _Francis? Help me!" Antonio pleaded with his friend, wanting to fix the awful situation he was in.

"Okay. So he gave you oral sex. Then what happened?"

"He- he tried to kiss me, and I freaked out and pushed him away and ran out and came here."

Francis gaped at him. "That's- that's the worst possible thing you could do, why…" he buried his head in his hands. "He likes you, Antonio, romantically, possibly even _loves _you, enough for you to be the only person he has told about his past, enough to try to make you happy, to make you like him in the only way he knows how, through sex. And you- you just threw him away like a piece of trash."

"I know, I don't know what to _do _so for gods sake _help _me before he runs off and gets beat up or god knows what else, Francis, tell me! What do I do?!" Antonio was hysterical, in a way Francis had never seen him before.

"Well, first you go over there and apologize to Lovino, that poor angel. And then you buy him an apartment or set up somewhere for him to live, say goodbye, and never see him again."

"But-"

"No buts. That's what you have to do. Right now, you don't matter, _he _does. Forget your desires and dreams and do what's best for him, got it?"

"Yeah," Antonio said solemnly. "It's just- it's _haaaaard…"_

"Life is hard, Toni," Francis snapped. "Get used to it."


	19. Chapter 19

_Three days later_

"Yes, I'd like to file a missing person report please," Antonio said wearily.

"Name?"

"Lovino Vargas. About twenty-two years old, male, dark brown hair, doesn't have much on him."

The policeman typed into his computer and then frowned. "Lovino… Vargas?"

"Yes," Antonio answered eagerly, "Have you found him?"

"No," the policeman said carefully, "it's just that- we have no Lovino Vargas on record in the United States. The person you are looking for either doesn't exist, is an illegal immigrant, or," the policeman swallowed nervously, "dead."

* * *

"Lovino! _Lovino!" _Antonio called into the empty street, but he heard nothing but the echoes of his voice reverberating against the walls. He couldn't be _that _far, right?

And yet it seemed that he must be halfway round the world, for no one Antonio spoke to knew of this man. He sighed and dug into his pocket, looking for his cellphone, but came out with a small slip of paper. On it was someone's number- Matthew Jones: 539-494-7843

Antonio frowned. Who was Matthew Jones? He had a vague image in his head of a bear keychain… of course! It was that nurse from a while ago, who had helped Lovino after his father had beaten him. Antonio didn't know how he could help, but he figured he might know _something, _and headed to the hospital.

* * *

"Name?" he was asked for the second time that day, now by the attendant at the front desk of the hospital, by the emergency room, where the ambulances dropped off their patients.

"Antonio Fernandez Carriedo."

"What is your reason for being here?"

"I wanted to… um…" Antonio wasn't sure how to explain himself. Even he wasn't entirely sure why he was here, he had just figured it was a place he could actually go so he could tell himself that Lovino wasn't here, so therefore he wasn't lying dead in an alleyway somewhere.

"If you don't have a reason for being here, we would kindly request that you leave, sir."

Antonio nodded. "I understand," he said, not really feeling the words, not hearing what he was saying and not caring. He had never felt this shitty before, and since he had no experience with how to deal with this feeling, he had unconsciously decided to find what- no, who- had made him feel happy, although sometimes irritated or angry, but indefinitely satisfied and _warm. _Antonio had many, many friends, but he never felt about them in this way, and that simultaneously scared and enticed him.

He turned to leave, but the doors burst open, two men running, pushing a stretcher with them, an unconscious bloody figure strapped down to it. Antonio turned his head, he had never been good with gore and even though he had barely seen anything he was already feeling nauseous.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of dark brown hair and his head snapped around instantly. Covering his mouth with his hand, he sprinted to the stretcher as fast as he could.

"Sir, if you would please step away!" one of the men commanded, hurrying towards a room.

"I think I know this person!" Antonio gasped, running after them. Once they reached the room, they stopped the stretcher and attached a breathing nozzle to the person's mouth, one man pumping on his chest. While the other attendee attached an IV to the person's wrist, they said, not looking at him but at their patient,

"You know them?"

"Yes! If I could see the face," Antonio panted, breathing heavily, trying not to puke. The man stared at him for a moment and then nodded, clearing the way so Antonio could move up to the head. Walking slowly, afraid of what he might find, Antonio wiped some of the blood off of the person's face. The facial features were distorted, the mouth sloping to one side, the nose almost completely ripped off, held by a few strings of sinew, the skin on one side of the face scraped and torn, muscle showing below- but there was no doubt about it.

This person was Lovino Vargas.

Antonio heaved and someone passed him a paper bag, which he puked in repeatedly. Finally he looked up. "What happened?"

"This kid tried to kill himself; jumped off a balcony in a fourth floor apartment while the man occupying it was asleep, after he allegedly had intercourse with our patient whom he had met barely an hour before, the occupant of the apartment is in police questioning right now."

Antonio held a hand to his head. "Oh god,"

"You know him?"

"Yes, yes I know him- he's a friend of mine, he-" Antonio puked in the bag again.

"Do you have any information or knowledge as to why this man might have tried to commit suicide?" the attendee asked, wooden and brusque. "If so, there is a policeman over there and if you would please tell him what you know so we can wrap up this formal investigation..?" He gestured towards a chubby policeman in a uniform, standing outside the room where Lovino was in.

Antonio swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "Of course."

"Sir! This man knows something!" the attendee yelled and he nodded at Antonio as he walked over, his feet feeling like lead.

"Do you know the name of this person?" he asked.

"Yes, his name is Lovino Vargas, he is about twenty-two years old. He has no relations other than a father who was just released from prison, a younger brother, and a grandfather."

"What is your relationship with Mr. Vargas?" the policeman questioned, jotting down notes on his pad.

"I was his therapist and later he moved in with me and we lived together for a while."

The inspector peered at him suspiciously but said nothing. "Do you have any information as to why Mr. Vargas may have attempted suicide?" he asked.

"I- yes," Antonio said, not sure what to say. "I made him- made him perform oral sex on me, and when he tried to kiss me I-" Antonio felt a lump rise in his throat and his eyes stung, but he kept talking. "I shoved him away and ran out on him, leaving him alone. During the time when he was alone, he must have run off. This was three days ago." He wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand, feeling so lost and ashamed and guilty.

"So this man may have had.. feelings for you and you denied him?" The policeman said, no sympathy in his voice. Antonio sniffed.

"Yes."

The policeman sighed and closed his notebook. "Do you have any idea why he was in another man's apartment?"

"He had a history of prostitution, when he was younger, to provide money for his mother's drinking habits. He may have gone back to- that in an attempt to get money."

"I see. That will be all. Thank you for your cooperation." The policeman left, walking back to a partner that must have been waiting for him. Antonio watched him go and then returned to Lovino's bedside.

"Will he make it?" he asked one of the attendees. He didn't answer and continued with his work. Antonio found a chair by the wall across from Lovino's bedside and sat down, burying his face in his hands. After a moment he took his phone out of his pocket and dialed Francis, who picked up almost immediately. "I found him," he said.

He heard Francis sigh, relieved. "Did you apologize? How is he?" he asked sternly.

"I haven't gotten the chance to apologize." Antonio paused, not sure how to say it. "I'm at the hospital with him. He tried to kill himself. He's unconscious; we don't know if he'll survive." He heard a stunned silence, and then,

"I'm coming over." The line clicked off as Francis hung up and Antonio buried his face in his hands once more, overcome by a surge of emotion and guilt.

This was his fault. This was all his fault, and he had no idea how to fix this, how to make this okay, this was _real, _not trying to escape the principal's wrath after having water balloon fights with old condoms from the health room filled with apple juice(Gilbert's favorite) in the teacher's lounge.

Of course Lovino must hate him, of course he would never want to see him again, or course he would move out and get a new therapist and Antonio would move on and forget about him and have sex with a million random people just like before, but it would never feel as good as Lovino, no fake partners and diamond rings and plastic vows would ever make him as happy as when Lovino complimented him or laughed or smiled and Antonio knew he was the one who had made his whole face light up and life come into his eyes again, that would never happen anymore and just the fact that he wouldn't be able to see that smile again made everything so much worse, made it seem like the walls were crushing him and a million people all with that twisted, deformed bloody face of Lovino in the stretcher were strangling him and he couldn't breathe, couldn't move or think or even cry because it was all over, all of it and there was no going back, not now and not ever.

"Antonio?" Francis's voice jolted him out of his daydream and back into nightmare-world which was now reality. Antonio didn't move, he didn't want to see Francis's face, he didn't want pity and sympathy, he wanted Francis to hate him and be mad at him, for Francis to yell at him and hate him just as much as he hated himself.

He felt a hand rest on his shoulder, comfortingly, and it felt so good and nice and that made him hurt so much more, because it felt so good and Lovino might never have someone to care for him ever again, that he was alive and well and okay and human touch and warmth felt so _good _and Antonio couldn't stop the tears from coming now, he hadn't cried for such a long time, since he was a kid it seemed, and all the pent up feelings and tears seemed to overflow him now_. _

Francis kneeled down beside him. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's my fault," he said, his tongue feeling like iron in his mouth. "He may never wake up and it's all my fault." He cried harder, his shoulders shaking, moaning and hiccupping like a small child.

"Shh," Francis soothed, rubbing circles on his back, but this only reminded Antonio of how he had comforted Lovino while he was screaming at night, how he had rubbed circles on Lovino's quaking back and _shhh_ed him until Lovino quieted and slept calmly again, his warm body next to Antonio, soft breaths making a lullaby.

Francis waited with Antonio while he cried, while he purged his body of everything, while the medics did everything they could, while the night came, and then the morning, and Lovino still didn't wake up.

Roma led Feliciano into the small room where Lovino was being kept. Upon seeing Antonio crouched at his bedside, holding Lovino's hand forlornly, he was filled with anger and exploded at him.

"How could you! You were supposed to keep an eye on him, make sure this didn't happen! This is entirely your fault!" he yelled. Antonio looked up at him, red and puffy-eyed.

"I know," he said quietly.

"What do you think you're doing here, you have no business being here! Get out!" Roma screamed, red-faced, spittle flying. Feliciano tugged at his sleeve.

"Please, Grandpa, let's not do this here," he pleaded, but Antonio was already out the door, waiting in the hall. As soon as he was gone, Roma kneeled down by his bedside and carefully brushed the hair from his face, making sure to keep clear of the stitches from the skin grafts on one side of his face where his skin had almost been completely ripped off from the friction of his fall.

Bandages were wrapped almost completely around his face, over the newly implanted skin grafts and keeping his nose in place until it healed, stitches under the bandages making sure it didn't completely fall off. His gums were repaired and fake teeth had been placed where his original teeth had fallen out. The few patches of skin that were showing were purple with bruising.

Feliciano covered his eyes, whimpering. "Will he always look like that?" he whispered.

"No." Both Roma and Feliciano darted their heads around to look at the source of the voice; finally they noticed him, standing against the wall, a young nurse with a bear keychain who they hadn't noticed when they entered the room.

They stared at him.

"In a couple months, the stitches will dissolve and his bruises should also fade. We've matched the skin tone for the grafts so you shouldn't be able to tell after a while. There may be some simple scarring, but apart from that he should look the same as he did before."

Roma nodded slowly. "Thanks," he said carefully. "Are you his doctor?"

The nurse smiled. "No, I'm just a nurse."

"I see." Roma and Feliciano turned back to Lovino.

"Why isn't he awake?" Feliciano asked.

"He's in a coma. We're hoping he'll wake up in a couple days or so. Our estimate is three to four days from now."

Feliciano smiled. "That's good." He turned to Roma. "When he wakes up, let's throw him a party, with drinks and pasta!" he exclaimed. Roma laughed.

"Yeah, he might like that."

* * *

Antonio waited until they were gone and then came back into the room and got down beside Lovino and took up his usual spot again. Lovino looked so still and calm, and his face was so complacent and even with his bandages on and his bruises, to Antonio he looked like an angel, and he just couldn't handle that, couldn't handle that he had hurt such a beautiful person, and clutched at Lovino's hand, burying his face in his thin chest, listening to the slow beating of Lovino's heart.

He almost felt like crying again, but he had no tears and instead gripped Lovino's hand tighter, not knowing Matthew was still in the corner watching him sadly, remembering the last time he was in the hospital with Lovino, remembering how he had kissed Lovino's forehead and how soft his skin had been, and without thinking, mechanically, Antonio pressed his lips to Lovino's forehead once again, one hand cupping his cheek, the bandages scratching his palm.

"You really love him, don't you," Matthew commented. Antonio's head shot up and stared at him suddenly.

"What?" he asked, confused, dazed almost.

"Oh sorry," he apologized quickly, "I thought you were his boyfriend or something."

"No, no, nothing like that," Antonio said quickly. The nurse raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Antonio turned back to Lovino. "I hope he wakes up soon," he murmured.

"Guess we'll just have to wait and see."


	20. Chapter 20

_Four days later_

"Come over immediately," the voice on his phone commanded, "He's waking up." Antonio grabbed his jacket and ran out the door, racing to the hospital, panting. He got to the room where Lovino was being kept as quick as he could, knocking over a nurse accidentally and running into a cart piled with scalpels, but there was no time to worry about grace and etiquette; he had to see Lovino, had to hear his voice, see his eyes open, had to rub the hair from his forehead and tell him everything was okay and sing him lullabies until he never had nightmares anymore.

He screeched to a halt in front of the room and burst in, panting, Matthew looking at him astonished, just now clicking "end" on his cell phone.

"That was fast," he remarked.

"How is he?" Antonio gasped, bent over, his hands on his knees.

"Why don't you go see for yourself?" Matthew nodded over to the bed. Antonio braced himself and headed to Lovino's bedside.

He kneeled down slowly and brushed the hair out of Lovino's eyes so he could see clearly, like his mother had always done when he was ill. He made sure to avoid the penis-curl-whatever the fuck that thing was, stroking Lovino's hair carefully.

Wait.

Where _was _the curl?

Antonio looked but it wasn't there, just a mess of tangled dark brown hair above brown eyes- but that _had _to be Lovino, right, it couldn't be anyone else?

Although, Antonio remembered, feeling nauseous, he hadn't looked at the face too clearly. It was all ripped up. And then there were the bandages, which covered most of the man's face and parts of his hair, and the bruising- this man was not, could not possibly be Lovino Vargas, and yet- it had to be, he couldn't be anyone else, right?

Had this person done a switch, changed and taken Lovino away? Antonio didn't think it likely, the little details and imperfections in the face which he had taken to be distortions or twisted and peeling skin had merely been small blemishes in a face- so where did Lovino go?

Was it possible that he had never even been checked into the hospital?

Was he somewhere else, doing whatever the hell or _who_ever the hell, and Antonio had mistaken this guy lying in the bed for him?

He cupped the man's face in his hands. "Tell me, please, what is your name?"

The man spoke, slowly, raspy, "Enrico Fernandez."

* * *

"Wh-what were you doing in that apartment? With that man? Where's Lovino- what have you done to him?!" Antonio demanded, grasping the man's shoulders tightly, enraged.

"I- That's my apartment- my boyfriend and I- we decided to try something new and took drugs before we, uh.. had sex, and things got crazy and I fell off the balcony, or something I guess, and now I'm here," The man looked up at Antonio inquisitively. "Who's Lovino?"

Astonished, Antonio let go of the man's shoulders and he tumbled back onto the bed. "What the hell were you just doi-" Matthew started, about to give him a lecture on proper conduct towards patients, but Antonio interrupted him.

"You've got the wrong man," Antonio emphasized.

"Wha..?"

"That man- he's not Lovino! Lovino never checked into this hospital- oh _god _he's probably dead in a ditch somewhere and it's my fault- I told the officers this man was Lovino because I was too scared to look at his face properly- I'm such an idiot- all my fault.." Antonio paced in circles, his head in his hands, trying to grasp the situation and calm down, but he couldn't calm down, he had just wasted about a week moaning in a hospital over a man he had believed to have been Lovino, while Lovino was still out there, alone, probably-

Antonio didn't want to think about it, he didn't want to think at all, but he couldn't stop and all the thoughts flooded his head and made him feel like he was going to burst, he was so angry and worried and frustrated and scared at the same time and he just couldn't handle it, couldn't handle anything right now because everything was his fault, this whole big mess was his fault and he had crossed the line- No, he had crossed the line long, long ago, when he invited Lovino into his home, when he hugged and cuddled and complimented him and when he had _sex _with him and then pushed him away and just ran away- from Lovino, from how he felt, from everything.

Antonio stopped pacing. He thrust his hands into his pockets so that he didn't pull and rip out his hair, a bad habit he had acquired when he was stressed- he felt his hands clench into fists, curled up inside the cloth of his jeans, and godammit he was not running anymore, no sir, he was gonna _find _Lovino if it was the last fucking thing he did.

* * *

It annoyed Antonio to no end, but he knew that he would have to do some research first, if he wanted to find Lovino before anything happened to him. He knew that Francis and Lovino had had a somewhat… strange mutual encounter, but apart from that, he knew nothing. First, he interviewed Francis.

"What do you _mean _it's not him?" Francis yelled into the phone, making Antonio wince on the other end. "How the fuck did you mess _that _one up- god, I can't believe you- I hope to _god _for your mother's sake you're adopted.."

It took ten minutes and a bribe of a wedge of fancy cheese, but he finally got Francis to cough up his story of how and where he met Lovino.

"Well, let's see… I think I was in… the Hunts Point area in the Bronx," Francis muttered thoughtfully. Antonio winced. "Anyway, he was, you know, standing outside some trashy bar, smoking a cigarette. He was wearing this kind of.. loosely buttoned top, I think.. well, I was drunk, so I couldn't see too well, and tight pants. Not like the type you see in bad movies, like the leather pants or the bright vinyl drainpipes, no, they were just.. normal pants, except you could tell that they were a few sizes too small on purpose."

"Why him?" Antonio asked.

"Hm?"

"I mean, there must have been a bunch of hookers around in that kind of area, so why did you pick him?"

"I dunno," Francis drawled, "I don't- he just stood out, you know? Like the other ones all have this kind of daydreamy look, like they're not all quite there, and most of them are whacked out of their minds anyway, but this guy.. I remember thinking to myself that his eyes weren't clouded- they were clear, crystal clear, shining, almost- he looked so pure- the others had all given up, you could tell, but he was still living, he was determined- and that got me."

"So because he looked more sober, you decided to sleep with him," Antonio stated.

"Well, it wasn't exactly that," Francis elaborated. "He was.. I dunno. I asked him, 'How old are you?' and he says, 'Seventeen,' so I thought, 'Alright then, that's not too bad,' and I asked him how much and he told me and we went into some dingy motel and he took my shirt off first, and then his, and then we were on the bed, and god he was skinny and he's all over me, you know, and I'm just wondering how old this kid really is but I didn't really want to think about it so I didn't think and we ended up having sex and I pretended he was Arthur and started blubbering and shit, I mean, I was drunk and he just gets up off of me and gives me this great huge hug like he knew exactly what was happening and patted my back and apologized and he tried to leave, but I just felt awful and I kept thinking about how _skinny _he was and so I gave him all the money I had with me and told him to go treat himself to a fancy restaurant and he just stared like he didn't know what I was talking about and took it and-"

Francis was speaking very fast now, ending his sentences with 'you know's instead of periods, as if he didn't want to recall the deeds he had done, the money he had wasted and the drugs and the booze and the sex and motels and neon lights that all blurred into one until Antonio and Gilbert had finally pulled him back into reality.

"I know, Toni, I know I'm a terrible person and I'm sorry for what I've done, I'm truly sorry, you must think so much worse of your friend now-" Francis was blubbering into the phone, sounding very much like a beached seal and Antonio had to slow him down several times until Francis had calmed down a bit.

"Francis, we all do shit- it's fine, well, it's not fine, but it's good that you have recognized that you did bad and you tried to help him, and that's very mature of you." Antonio couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth, like he was some kind of super-therapist who had suddenly developed into a mature adult. Usually it was him the one blubbering on the phone and Francis was trying to comfort him and Gil was doing this weird thing he called "shoosh-pap," until Antonio swatted him away.

Francis moaned unintelligible, distraught words into the phone and Antonio hung up after a minute of saying bye repeatedly, until the words blurred together and made no sense, and still got no response except for, "You'd better buy me some really fucking awesome cheese for this."

* * *

Antonio boarded the subway, mentally and physically exhausted even though he had barely done anything yet today. However, he had a lead, or really just a small window of an opportunity of a chance that maybe, just maybe Lovino was somewhere in the Hunts Point area in the Bronx, and Antonio was going to fucking _seize _the day or whatever that saying was and he was going to find Lovino, and everything would be peachy and rainbows.

Well, not really, but it would be one step in a whole staircase of things he would have to do if he wanted Lovino back and safe. He waited on the train until he finally got off at the right stop, feeling awkward and out of place with his backpack full of food and medical supplies in case, god forbid, Lovino was hurt in any way.

He stepped out of the station and into the light, blinking as the sunlight hit his retinas. He almost wanted to turn back and hide in his apartment with a bowl of popcorn and a fuzzy blanket, but he knew there was no going back now that he had gotten this far. Taking a deep breath, he willed himself to put one foot in front of the other and start walking, start finding.


	21. Chapter 21

_Two years later_

Antonio had given up and resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't going to see Lovino again. His experience in Hunts Point had been less than satisfactory; Lovino had been nowhere, as if he had just vanished off the face of the earth. Antonio almost worried that he _had, _after all the extraordinary events they had been through it wasn't that hard to believe.

And so, on behalf of his friends who believed that what he needed was a nice girl/boyfriend to help him forget Lovino, move on, and get out of the house and stop moping around doing nothing, he drove to Brooklyn to meet a girl with whom Francis had correspondence with. Francis had shown him pictures, and she _was _very pretty, but Antonio had a feeling he would like her a lot better if she had dark brown hair and that one curl that always stood upand a perpetual smile-grimace and a spicy personality.

He found himself in Brooklyn, after a while's drive, and looked on his phone for instructions on how to get to the small bar he was meeting this girl at. After thirty minutes of stumbling and stopping a very confused pedestrian to ask where he was, he finally found it and stepped inside, welcoming the cold blast of air-conditioning that wafted out as he opened the door. It was in a slightly decrepit part of the city, with old crumbling buildings and he could almost sense the poverty hanging on the area, but the bar was a very neat and clean little establishment.

The light was dim, and he squinted, looking for the identifiable blond hair and red hairband of the girl he was supposed to meet, but instead his eyes fell upon a head of messy dark brown hair, with just one strand of hair sticking up in a very familiar curl.

Antonio could swear his heart skipped a beat, he felt suddenly out of breath and lightheaded. His body moved on its own, moving closer to this person so he could see their face.

They were smiling, talking to a drunk woman who was not very subtly hitting on them, but Antonio could see the impatience and irritation in their eyes, he could hear the sugar coated words drop off the person's tongue like honey and the woman lapped it all up, aching for more, and then the dark haired person said something and the woman smiled and got up and stumbled a bit until the dark haired person took her arm and led her calmly out of the bar.

Forgetting the woman he was supposed to meet and his date, Antonio slipped out after them and followed them to a small motel he hadn't noticed before. He heard a voice murmur something, and then footsteps and they were gone.

Antonio leaned against the wall and slowly allowed himself to sink to the ground. His curiosity won over his boredom and he sat and waited.

* * *

It was two hours before the dark haired person left the motel, this time alone. Antonio couldn't see their face, but he could tell that they were smoking as the smoke drifted and reflected in the city lights. Making sure he wasn't seen, he followed that person back to the bar, where they leaned outside, next to the door, and coolly waited.

A while later, Antonio noticed a old-ish, burly man with a walrus mustache walk past. He seemed to have some sort of conversation using only a look and the dark haired person got up and walked with the middle aged man into a small alley behind the bar. Antonio couldn't hear or see them, but he had a pretty good idea what was happening.

* * *

Antonio checked his watch. It had been twenty minutes. He had just lowered his arm when the burly, round man came strutting out and away. Antonio suppressed the urge to run up and punch that man, but he knew that that man could easily best him. So he stuck his hands in his pockets and waited for the dark haired person to come out.

Finally they came out and Antonio caught a glimpse of their face- he couldn't be absolutely sure, but they looked like Lovino and walked like Lovino and they had that hair and that curl and that same, bored and irritated expression that he always wore- it had to be Lovino, it just _had _to be, because if it was someone else Antonio wouldn't be able to bear it, having been so close and missing by a mile.

Not wanting to lose the person who could only be Lovino, he jogged up after them. "Lovino!" he called. The person showed no response except for the fact that they started walking faster. "Hey! Lovino!" Antonio yelled again. The person broke into a run and Antonio ran up after them, remembering the time when he and Lovino had ran and Lovino had laughed and had made everything seem soft.

Finally he caught up with them and grabbed their arm, forcing them to stop, although they twisted their face away so Antonio couldn't see it. Antonio leaned around, trying to get a view of the face, but the person whirled around at the same time and tripped Antonio up so he fell down, letting go of their wrist. They sprinted off, and once more Antonio got up and began to run.

"Please," he yelled again, desperate. "I just want to talk- is it you? Lovino?"

The person slowed to a halt and Antonio, elated, ran over in front of them. They had their face turned away, but Antonio could tell without a doubt it was Lovino. Panting, he knelt down on the ground, dirtying his jeans.

"My name is Romano now," a cold voice said.

"No, no- Lovino, you're Lovino, you're always Lovino," Antonio said, feeling happy that he had found Lovino, yet… sad, and he couldn't fathom why, something about Lovino's voice both delighted him and the coldness made him feel so lost.

"They call me Romano, so I am Romano."

"You are you- you are who you are, no one else! Please, Lovino!"

"They want me to be Romano, so I am Romano. That is all. I have nothing more to say to you. Goodbye," Romano rebuked harshly, without emotion, reminding Antonio of a robot, and then he turned away and made to leave, but Antonio grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"I'm sorry- don't leave, I just want to talk, Lo-Romano," Antonio corrected himself.

"I have nothing to say to you."

_"Please, _I just…" not knowing what to say, Antonio's hand traveled down Lovino's arm and he grasped his hand tightly, pulling Lovino to him on the ground. Not being able to hold it in any longer, his arms wrapped around Lovino's thin body and he hugged him tightly, rocking back and forth. Lovino was stiff as a board. "Don't you feel anything?" Antonio whispered.

"No."

* * *

Antonio let go of Lovino and stood up. "Why don't you come back home with me?" he offered. He held out his hand for Lovino to take but he got up by himself.

Lovino shrugged. "Okay."

Antonio was taken aback- it was good, very good that Lovino had agreed, but the Lovino he knew would have yelled and complained and whined and this Lovino, this silent, nonchalant rock imitation of Lovino who had no qualms about anything just... agreed. Antonio figured there must be a catch somewhere, but he decided he would deal with that when he got Lovino back home with him, safe.

"Why don't you pack your things?" he asked.

"I don't really have anything I want to keep," Lovino said. "Let's just go. Now. Please," He tugged at Antonio's sleeve like an impatient child.

"O-Okay," Antonio said. "My car's this way."

* * *

Lovino was strangely quiet the whole car ride, although he was very fiddly, fidgeting with the glove compartment and the mirror and radio and such and Antonio had to keep smacking his hands away. They reached where Antonio lived (he had a house now) and he opened the door for Lovino. He stepped in slowly. Antonio closed the door behind himself and sat down on the couch, gesturing for Lovino to come and sit next to him. Lovino sat lightly, folding his hands in his lap and looking down at them.

"Why did you want to come so badly?" Antonio asked gently. He placed a hand on Lovino's shoulder, but Lovino flinched and he pulled his hand back quickly.

"I'm trying to get clean," Lovino said quietly.

"Pardon?" Antonio wasn't sure if he had heard Lovino correctly.

"I'm trying to get clean," Lovino repeated. He pulled up his shirt sleeve and Antonio, shocked, could see track marks from what must have been a needle around his forearm where the veins were gathered.

"When… how did…?" He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"I've been trying to get clean, to come off it, but it hurts too much and before I know it I'm on my back and someone's inside me and I don't even care because it means that soon I'll be so whacked out of my mind it won't hurt anymore. I don't have the resolve to do it on my own. That's all," Lovino said, robotically, not showing any emotion.

"Well, it's good that you realize you have a problem…" Antonio trailed off. He didn't really know what to say. "What did you take? Heroin?"

Lovino nodded. "Heroin, mostly. Adderall too. Not cocaine, though, it makes me sneeze. I didn't share needles, so you know. Never,"

"Well, that's good at least… Is there any other reason you came?" Antonio asked hopefully. "Didn't you… miss me or something? Anything?"

Antonio thought he saw Lovino's jaw clench, as if he was steeling himself for something, but he could have been mistaken, it could have just been his wishful thinking. Lovino shook his head, his lips pressed together in a thin line like he was trying to stop himself from speaking.

"I- I see. I'm sorry."

Lovino's eyelids drooped. His head nodded back and forth a couple of times, trying to stay awake, and then all of a sudden his head fell forward and his body relaxed and he went tumbling down sideways, his head on Antonio's lap.

Antonio was startled by this sudden turn of events, he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do in a situation like this so he settled on just letting Lovino sleep. He felt himself becoming drowsy too and yawned, trying to keep himself from nodding off as well. Suddenly Lovino's whole body convulsed- just for a second.

Antonio was suddenly wide awake. "Lovino?" he whispered, shaking the sleeping man's shoulder. "Lovino?" Lovino's whole body shook again, and then began trembling violently.

"No," he whimpered, then again, louder: "No! _No!" _ Before long he was shouting the word; he had since curled up into a tiny ball and Antonio didn't know what to do.

"Lovino!" he said loudly, shaking Lovino's shoulder. "Lovino!" He shook harder but to no effect. "Come _on, _Lovino.. wake _up.." _

Left with nothing else to do and, muttering a small apology to Lovino, he drew back his hand and slapped Lovino firmly across the face. Lovino gave one last, final jerk and then zoomed upwards, breathing heavily. He looked around, seeing Antonio, and then seeing where he was. He sighed and wiped the hair from his sweaty forehead.

"You okay?" Antonio asked.

"Yeah," Lovino breathed. "Just a nightmare. That always happens when I don't take junk, so I just don't sleep if I'm coming down, so sometimes I pass out. I'm sorry if I worried you." He looked so small and tiny, his eyes downcast, and Antonio pulled him on to his lap and held him close to his chest, Lovino facing him. Lovino didn't protest, just adjusted himself into a more comfortable position where his legs were on either side of Antonio.

Antonio smiled warmly at him and Lovino returned the gesture with a faint smile, which caused Antonio's face to break out in a sunny grin. Lovino's smile widened and it seemed to lighten the whole room, him smiling. Antonio could see the confusion, as if he didn't know what his face was doing, the embarrassment of the fact that he _was _smiling, and then just pure, unfiltered happiness shining through the cracks and Antonio could almost see the old Lovino, _his _Lovino and that just made him even happier.


	22. Chapter 22

It had been two years since Francis had taken Arthur to a nearby hotel after he passed out, and he had barely seen him since. Every time he ran into Arthur, he would just nod a greeting and hurry away, even if it was the opposite direction of where Arthur was supposed to go. Francis had taken to ambushing Arthur wherever he went, but soon enough Arthur had found a way to avoid him and Francis stopped seeing him entirely.

Francis was deterred slightly but was still determined not to give in. He started visiting the bar that Alfred worked at regularly to talk to Arthur, but he was always seated at the bar, chatting with Alfred, this dopey grin pinned to his cheeks but Francis could see how much it pained him to see Alfred flirt with other uninterested customers and remain oblivious to the childhood friend sitting at the bar, staring wistfully at Alfred.

A couple times he tried cornering Arthur when he would leave the bar when it closed, late at night, trying to speak to him, but Arthur would just push him away irritably and march on without a single glance. Francis got the message and left him alone after that.

At least until that one night two years later. Francis had sent Antonio to Brooklyn and Gilbert was at something called Bronycon and Francis was all alone and decided, for the hell of it, to go get wasted and fuck a cute girl. He headed to the bar, his jacket collar turned up against the wind, and was pulling the door open when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. He let go of the door and walked over, looking around, but he saw no one.

"Down here." Startled, Francis lowered his gaze, and then squatted down in front of the man sitting morosely on the pavement between the wall and a dustbin, his knees pulled to his chest.

"What are you doing here?" Francis asked gently. Arthur didn't answer and clutched his knees tighter. "Is it Alfred?"

Slowly, Arthur nodded, biting his lip as tears spilled over his cheeks. "He's getting married," he sobbed. "He wants me to be best man. Because- because I'm his _friend." _Arthur spoke the word bitterly, as if it were a insult, a slur.

"I'm sorry," Francis said. "Is there anything I can do?" Arthur shook his head. Francis got to his feet and held out a hand. "Why don't I take you home?" he asked. Arthur shook his head again.

"I don't want to go home."

"My place? I won't try anything, I swear. I just want to make sure you're okay." Arthur said nothing. Francis sighed irritably. "Look, you can't stop Alfred from falling in love with other people. He's old enough to decide for himself. Now come on and let's go to my place because it's fucking freezing out and if you get hypothermia and die I'll feel guilty and steal all your life insurance as payment. Got it?"

Slowly Arthur nodded and stood up.

"Good man," Francis said, and patted him on the back. "Now, shall we go?"

* * *

Antonio felt himself nodding off to sleep while Lovino sat nervously on the couch next to him, fiddling with a piece of string that had come off of his shirt, wrapping it and unwrapping it around his fingers. His head drooped. It had been a long day and he hadn't got much sleep… what time was it? Nine? Ten? He felt himself falling sideways, the soft cushions feeling so comfortable…

* * *

"Antonio! _Antonio!" _Antonio was vaguely aware of a weight on his stomach and he shifted slightly but the weight shifted with him... someone was shaking his shoulders and he opened one eye, then the other.

A pair of brownish-green eyes peered at him. Or was it greenish-brown? He couldn't decide, it was like they were two colors at once. He blinked a couple times. "What?" he said stupidly.

"Thank god," a voice breathed- Lovino's voice. He lifted his head and saw that the weight on his stomach was actually Lovino, sitting on his stomach. He looked around some more and saw that they were on the ground and his head was throbbing painfully.

"Um," he said. "What's happening?"

"You rolled off the couch in your sleep and hit your head on the table and I couldn't tell if you were breathing or not and I wasn't sure if you were alive and-" Lovino said this all very quickly, in one breath, and then caught himself.

"Oh." Antonio laid his head back down. "What time is it? Have you slept at all?"

"It's three am. And I don't sleep, I think I told you that. Yeah, I just kinda… sat here and watched you sleep."

"That's kinda creepy," Antonio commented. Lovino smiled weakly.

"Do you have any aspirin?" he asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Or painkillers. Of any kind, I don't really care."

"Why do you need them?"

"Headache," Lovino explained.

"Oh." Antonio sat up, rubbing his head where it hurt and Lovino slid off his stomach and onto his lap. "I think there's some in the bathroom cabinet."

"Thanks." Lovino swung his leg over Antonio's lap and got off of him, standing up. From Antonio's angle on the ground, he could see partially up Lovino's shirt and the delicate curve of his back, his spine bones sticking out like a dinosaur's crest as he walked off to the bathroom.

"How much do you weigh?" Antonio asked.

Lovino paused. "Huh?"

"There's a scale in the bathroom. I want to see how much you weigh. I want to be sure you're eating right."

Antonio got up and walked over to Lovino, taking his arm and leading him into the bathroom. Lovino opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it, at a loss for words. Antonio pointed to a scale in the corner by the toilet and, rolling his eyes, Lovino stepped on it reluctantly. Antonio peered around him at the number.

"98 pounds?" he said incredulously. "That's about as much as a fourteen year old girl weighs."

Lovino shrugged. "I'm small."

"You're small because you don't eat!" Antonio insisted.

"I'm not anorexic or anything. I just don't get hungry."

"The Adderall does that, doesn't it," Antonio stated. Lovino shrugged again.

"Dunno. Don't really care."

"How can you not care?!" Antonio exploded. "You'll die if you continue like this!"

Lovino looked up and into Antonio's eyes. "Good."

* * *

"No, not good!" Antonio yelled. He grabbed Lovino's hand and clutched it- he could feel Lovino shaking slightly, his hands giving little tremors occasionally. "Come on- let's go get you a hamburger or something."

* * *

Lovino was silent the whole car ride, as if he was a naughty child who was being punished. Antonio ordered a double cheeseburger and a large portion of fries for Lovino, and a salad for himself at a small 24-hour joint by his house that he frequented with Gilbert. The food arrived and Lovino took a couple bites sullenly, and then some more, and suddenly he was cramming it all into his mouth as if he had never eaten before in his life and within minutes the cheeseburger and fries were gone.

Lovino wiped his hands on his napkin. Antonio noticed that his hands were still shaking but said nothing. Lovino stood up and tipped the remnants on his tray and paper plate into the trash can and set the tray with the other dirty trays and Antonio tried to finish his salad as quick as he could so that they could go.

They were silent on the drive back, until suddenly, Lovino said, "Stop the car."

Antonio pressed down on the brakes and as soon as the car had slowed Lovino had opened the door and jumped out and onto the side of the road. He bent over and Antonio wasn't sure what he was doing until he heard him retching and the sound of vomit hitting the asphalt with a sickening splat. Antonio got out of the car as well and stood next to Lovino, a hand on his back as Lovino emptied the contents of his stomach. Finally he straightened up, his mouth stained with vomit and looking queasy.

"You all right?" Antonio asked, handing him a tissue to wipe his mouth with. Lovino did so, and then nodded. He tossed the tissue aside next to the puddle of sick and got back into the car. Antonio followed his lead and got in also, and once Lovino had his seatbelt on, Antonio started the car and went home.

* * *

After Lovino had thoroughly brushed his teeth and rinsed his mouth and gotten all the vomit residue out of his mouth, he laid down on the couch and yawned.

"You can use my bed if you want," Antonio said. Lovino nodded his thanks and walked to his room, Antonio close behind him. Lovino didn't seem to protest when Antonio got into the same bed and so Antonio stayed, wanting to be with Lovino so when he had his nightmares Antonio wouldn't be far.

Time drifted on and Lovino snored quietly and eventually Antonio joined him in sleep. It seemed like only seconds had passed when Antonio was awoken by Lovino's whimpers. Antonio could feel him trembling under his hand. He gently shook Lovino, startled when Lovino's eyes snapped open and he jerked upright.

"Wha-" he began, and then looked around the room warily. Finally he relaxed and laid back down on the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin, his eyes wide open.

"You okay?" Antonio asked. Lovino nodded. "Do you want to go back to sleep?" Lovino shook his head quickly. "Why not?"

"Because.." Lovino started, and then trailed off.

"Because of the nightmares?" Lovino nodded. "What is it?" Antonio asked.

"Its- its my dad. And he's angry. Really, really angry." Lovino spoke softly, as if he wasn't quite sure himself what he was saying.

"Why is he angry?" Antonio pressed.

"I don't know, because I did something bad. He was always angry. And," Lovino swallowed nervously. "When he was angry, he…"

"Would hit you?" Antonio prompted again. Lovino didn't answer. "Do you remember your early childhood?" Antonio asked.

Lovino shook his head slowly. "No. It's kind of.. a blank. I don't remember much. It just- kind of- comes back to me. In dreams. I remember scary bits of it and then I wake up and I forget exactly what I dreamed about but it wasn't good, and I knew sort of, but I didn't quite know, but I still- I don't want to go to sleep. Because he's always there, waiting for me when I close my eyes."

"Do you know what happened in your childhood?"

"Yeah, mostly, from what people tell me and from what I can remember, but some bits are just kind of… missing. I remember him coming home drunk, and I remember pain and hearing Feli crying and lying on the ground, staring at a crack in the wall that I was facing."

Lovino lay on his back, his eyes shining in the moonlight peeking in through a slit in the curtains. 'Are you sure you're alright?" Antonio asked again.

"Yeah."

"Want to cuddle?"

"No."

"Well, you're going to get it anyway." Antonio moved over closer to Lovino, his arms around his shoulders. "You smell nice," he commented.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome!"

"I was being sarcastic."

"No, but really," Antonio protested, taking a deep breath at the point where Lovino's neck met his shoulder. "It's kind of… flowery. But in a totally masculine way. Like, manly flowers."

"Manly flowers?" Lovino repeated incredulously.

"Yeah, like a Venus flytrap or something."

Lovino laughed and Antonio felt his whole body spread with warmth, as if he had just taken a large gulp of hot chocolate. He scooched a bit closer to Lovino. Lovino squeaked and Antonio pulled away, quickly.

"Too tight?" he asked.

"A bit," Lovino said. He was silent for a moment, and then he spoke. "I was wondering- if my mother- if she wasn't dead, would she hold me like that? Would she care for me?"

Antonio was dumbstruck. He found the possibilities of a mother who had sold her own son into the sex business in exchange for drink, finally seeing the light, let alone realize she loved her son very, very unlikely. He didn't want to say this, however, as he felt it would not be the right thing to say at that moment, when Lovino's eyes were glistening oddly and his voice had a little tremor to it.

And so Antonio said something he had been thinking for quite some time, since Lovino had disappeared.

"What if she's not dead?"


	23. Chapter 23

**_Wow, my word document of this story is already over 100 pages long! I just want to thank everyone who has read this and reviewed, it makes me so happy to see that people like my fic. It's a great help to see everyone's opinions so that I can work to make my fic as good as it can be! This story is about 3/5 of the way through, and I've enjoyed it very much! _**

**_I also want to say that I will be publishing a short spamano smut oneshot soon. It's my first attempt at writing smut so it will probably not be very good but if you are interested, follow me and stay updated with whatever other fics I may write._**

**_Either way, even if you don't follow me and don't review or favorite this story or whatever but you still enjoy it, then I am glad that you like it. I just want to say thank you to ALL of my readers, even the silent ones, for allowing me to do this._**

* * *

_Previously.._

_He was silent for a moment, and then he spoke. "I was wondering- if my mother- if she wasn't dead, would she hold me like that? Would she care for me?"_

_Antonio was dumbstruck. He found the possibilities of a mother who had sold her own son into the sex business in exchange for drink, finally seeing the light, let alone realize she loved her son very, very unlikely. He didn't want to say this, however, as he felt it would not be the right thing to say at that moment, when Lovino's eyes were glistening oddly and his voice had a little tremor to it._

_And so Antonio said something he had been thinking for quite some time, since Lovino had disappeared._

_"What if she's not dead?"_

* * *

Lovino turned and looked at him so quickly he appeared to have cricked his neck. "What?" he croaked, rubbing his throat. "You think she's alive?"

Antonio shrugged. "You said that the trailer was on fire and she was nowhere, so you assumed she was already dead. What if she started the fire- accidentally or on purpose, it doesn't really matter now- and panicked and left? Did you ever consider that?"

"Yes," Lovino said slowly, "But I assumed she would come back for me." Antonio knew he and Lovino were both thinking the same thing: she wouldn't have let her only source of income leave.

"Suppose she found a job? Suppose she went through rehab? What then? Would you like to see her?"

Lovino swallowed. "I.."

"You don't have to decide right away. If she is indeed still alive, I assume it would be because she found a job or some other person to leech off of, or she is clean or in rehab, in which case she would probably be registered. I have friends and I can do some poking around- but only if you want to. To be honest, I'm not sure seeing her would be the best idea for you at the moment. I'd prefer for you to focus on you for the moment, but… if she really _has _changed, it might be good for you to get some.. I don't know, motherly love?" Antonio suggested.

"You would do that? You would do that for _me?" _Lovino inquired. "Really?"

"Of course. But only if you want me to."

Lovino thought for a moment. "Okay," he said slowly, "Let's do it."

* * *

"But first, I want to talk with you. I want to have a therapy session or two with you to make sure that you are mentally safe with seeing your mother," Antonio clarified, setting up the rules.

"Okay," Lovino said, sitting up and pulling his knees to his chest. "Let's do that now. I won't be able to sleep anyway."

"Uh.. okay." Antonio sat up also, running a hand through his hair. "Okay," he said again, trying to orientate himself. He turned on the light, his eyes squeezed shut until he felt that his eyes had adjusted to the sudden light. He yawned. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Now?"

Lovino nodded earnestly and Antonio sighed. "All right," he said sleepily. "Just wait a couple minutes." He rinsed his face with cold water in an effort to wake himself up, which it did, and then he hurried back into the bedroom and jumped under the blankets, freezing. "Okay," he said for the third time. "When- how did you get into drugs? What happened? Why did you go back to prostitution?"

Lovino groaned and rubbed his face with his hands, over and over, as if he was trying to rub off his skin and his features until he wouldn't be the same anymore. Worried, Antonio peeled Lovino's hands away from his face. Lovino twisted his hands around and around, as if he didn't know what to do with them, and then absentmindedly started twirling his hair around in his fingers.

"I.." he began. Antonio leaned forward eagerly. "I'm not sure exactly how it happened, I mean… it didn't happen immediately. I started bartending at that bar, you know, the one by where you found me. I didn't have money so I slept under a park bench but it wasn't that bad. On my second day, one of my coworkers- his name was.. it was… Jim, I think- he invited me out for a smoke. I told myself it was just cigarettes, but I knew, really, that it wasn't."

"If you knew, why did you go?" Antonio asked.

Lovino shrugged. "I dunno, I mean… I've never really had friends before." He caught the look on Antonio's face and added quickly, "You were different. But I mean. Just, friends. You know? And I thought 'what the hell' and said yes and he took me back to his place and a smoked a joint for the first time."

"How was it? What was your reaction to it?"

"It was… kind of relaxing. Like, I was just kinda calm and chill. My problems, they were still there- but they were just kind of muted, and I figured I could deal with them later. But it faded and then the bad feelings were back. Jim- he asked if I liked that. I said yes. He asked if I wanted to try something better, and I said 'god, yes.' So he gets out this lump and tinfoil and lights a match underneath it until the lump's all bubbly and melted and he gets out this syringe-y needle thing and sucks part of it up and sticks it in his arm, and I'm thinking 'oh god, he's a junkie,' but then his face just kind of- changed. He smiled wide like a snake, and his eyes looked glassy and he said- I remember it exactly- '_now_ I feel good.'

"I remembered everything people had said, you know, one hit and _bam," _he snapped his fingers, "you're a junkie. But this guy, Jim, at work- he was just a normal guy, you know? He wasn't creeping on little girls anything like that, and I figured that I had come this far, I might as well give it a shot.

"So I copied him. I sucked up the rest of the bubbly stuff in another needle that he handed me and stuck it in my arm like he had. I nearly missed the vein, but he showed me how to do it properly. And then- it was love at first toke, you know? It was just," he closed his eyes, a faint smile on his dry lips, _"Mmmm._ Everything floated away. _Everything. _Nothing really mattered anymore. My dad, Feli, my mom, you- it all just went fuzzy static and then they weren't really there anymore. I felt the best I had ever felt in my life. And then when it faded, and everything came back, all I was thinking was 'I gotta get some more of this.'"

Antonio opened his mouth, to say something, but Lovino plowed on.

"Jim said he had seen me in the park, sleeping. He didn't ask why I had come here so suddenly, why I didn't have a place to sleep, why I screamed when I sleep. He just asked if I wanted to stay with him for a while. And so I started living with him. I found out that if I took heroin before going to sleep, I didn't scream or have nightmares. And so things went well for a while, until we both got fired for getting high during work. Jim packed up and left, took all the junk with him. When I came back, the house was empty. We had been squatting, you see,"

"Pardon?" Antonio interrupted.

"Squatting. You know, where you kind of just adopt an old abandoned house and start living in it. Jim had fixed it up quite nice so I was alright staying there. But I didn't know what to do- I _needed _junk, I could feel every cell in my body yearning for it. I tried going for a walk to calm down, because I was kind of panicking at that point. I didn't know what to do without junk.

I was leaning against an alley wall, when some guy came up to me and asked how much. 'Excuse me?' I said. 'Sorry,' he said, 'I thought you were..' and then I found a way to get what I wanted. 'No, no,' I corrected him. 'I am.' So pretty soon I was giving this nasty old guy a blowjob, but I had my money and then I had my junk and everything was okay again."

"When did you realize you needed to come clean?" Antonio asked. Lovino's stark honesty surprised him and both disgusted him, he detested drugs on principle.

"Well, it was around three, four months ago I think. I was, you know, working, and this guy wanted me to do something I didn't want to do. I said no way, and then- he choked me with one hand and beat me with the other, and then when I couldn't move or breath he let go of me long enough for me to take a breath and then started choking me again, and then he- made me do what he wanted. Then he threw me against a wall and left. I don't know where he went- I think I passed out when my head knocked against the wall, and it was a while before I could move. I remember spitting out blood and wondering if I was going to die.

"I was upset, really upset. Not that he had beaten me, but because he hadn't paid me and that meant that I couldn't buy junk. And that's when I kinda realized- I was disgusted with myself."

"So did you try to get clean after that event?" Antonio asked.

"Yeah. I took a bus as far away as I could, out to the more rural areas. I spent all the money I had on me at that time for the bus fare, so I had nothing to buy junk with. I camped out- it was summer so it wasn't too big of a problem. I lasted about two days before I got up and started walking. I walked all the way back to the city, not really knowing what I was doing, and before long I was on my back and someone was on top of me, but I didn't care because I had my money again and that meant junk and that made me happy. I tried to get clean once more after that, but I always failed. I don't have the resolve. And then I saw you, and-"

Lovino stopped abruptly.

"And what?" Antonio prodded.

"I figured that I could- that I could use you. And so I came here, and.. you know." Lovino finished. He looked up at Antonio and Antonio noticed that Lovino had pulled out a number of hairs absentmindedly, wrapped around his finger, trailing behind.

"You must really hate me now," Lovino stated. It wasn't really a question, but Antonio answered it anyway.

"No, I don't," he replied curtly. "And stop fiddling with your hair. You'll pull it all out."

Lovino looked down at his finger, entwined with brown hairs, surprised. "I-" he started to apologize, but Antonio held a finger to Lovino's lips. He brushed them accidentally with his finger and he was startled by how soft they were, like a girl's, almost, but different, and he wanted to see what Lovino's lips felt like when they were touching his, he wanted to reach a hand up around Lovino's cheek and pull him in, wanted to taste Lovino and make him his…

And then Antonio realized what he was thinking and who Lovino was and what had happened the last time he had had such thoughts, and he composed himself and straightened up and tried not to think about who else had been with Lovino, who else had had the fortune to have those lips and that mouth and that tongue and that soft skin against their own, tried not to think of all the other countless people Lovino had made moan and call his name, tried not to think about Romano.

It didn't really work, but it was worth a shot.

"It's not your fault," he whispered, still gazing at Lovino's lips, and he felt Lovino's eyes flick over his, watching him, to see what he would do next, felt that greenish-brown stare into his… Antonio vaguely remembered once wanting to ask him exactly what color his eyes were… there was so much that Antonio wanted to ask him, so much he wanted to say but he didn't know how…

"Antonio?" Lovino's voice pierced through Antonio's thoughts like a javelin. Antonio shook his head, trying to clear his head of the images he had of Lovino in his head, stained with delicious sin, but they wouldn't leave.

"Sorry," he said. "I kinda.. zoned out."

Lovino breathed out a single, mocking laugh. "Yeah. I noticed." Antonio smiled weakly at him, trying his best to disguise the obvious lust written all over his face. Lovino's eyes passed over him, and as they met Antonio's, he felt a jolt pass through them and a pang of understanding rang in Lovino's face and for a moment Antonio was terrified that Lovino knew exactly what he was thinking.


	24. Chapter 24

Soon enough, Lovino started to feel the effects of cold turkey. He lay, shivering, on the couch, sweating a sticky fluid, moaning and groaning in pain. It was hard for Antonio to get any work done that week as he was taking care of Lovino, placing a cold towel on his forehead and attempting to wipe off the fluid he was sweating, which he guessed was the drug leaving Lovino's body. He refused, however, to give Lovino any medication- not a methadone script, not even ibuprofen.

"You need to do this on your own, without any drugs," he had advised whenever Lovino asked for painkillers, for just a tiny hit. Antonio attempted to feed Lovino but he ended up puking almost everything he ate, so Antonio just made him drink plenty of water and hoped for the best.

Finally, after a week, Lovino was able to eat a salad without puking, then some soup that evening, and some oatmeal the next morning. Two days later, the pain muted, and then left him completely. The last of the sticky fluid left him and his skin returned to its normal tannish color, rather than a sickly yellow.

Antonio was pleased with Lovino's progress. He had decided that he would take Lovino to Roma and Feliciano _after _he was clean, and so Antonio waited one more day.

"Don't you want to see your family?" he prodded, as Lovino lay in bed, refusing to get up. "They must really miss you."

"No they don't," Lovino mumbled, his face in the pillow. "They never cared."

"That's not true, and you know it. Your brother and your grandfather were exceedingly worried and fretful while they thought you were in the hospital." He had told Lovino about the fiasco with the misidentification of the man he had assumed to be Lovino, much to Lovino's amusement.

Lovino rolled over, holding the pillow onto his face still so that his words were muffled.

"I don't care."

"You should. They're your family. They're all you have," Antonio replied. Lovino groaned. Antonio sighed and pulled the pillow off of Lovino's face, accidentally brushing his curl with his hand. "Sorry," he apologized, as Lovino let out a yelp.

"Don't- _do- _that," he growled through gritted teeth.

"Do what?" Antonio asked, laughing at Lovino's reaction. "This?" He grabbed Lovino's curl and heard another ungainly squeak.

"I _said, _do-o-ah-_ahhhhnn_-don't- hnn_nng.. do _tha-ah-ah-" Lovino moaned as he tried to pull away from Antonio, resulting in more friction on his curl. His face was red and he was breathing heavily, making little gasps and moans whenever Antonio shifted his hand. Finally, feeling guilty, Antonio let go. Lovino fell to his hands and knees, panting.

"Sorry," Antonio apologized, still laughing, as Lovino shot him a murderous look. "It was just too funny." _And too sexy, _he thought, recalling the sounds Lovino had made and the effect they had had on Antonio- his jeans were uncomfortably tight around his crotch and he shifted positions, hoping Lovino hadn't noticed. If he had, he didn't say anything.

Lovino got to his feet, glaring daggers at Antonio. "You're a dick."

"You have two dicks," Antonio chuckled. Lovino shot him a look that made his insides freeze. "I'll go make you some coffee," he said quickly and hurried out of the room.

* * *

Despite their previous antics that morning, and despite the fact that Antonio now had a black eye, they arrived at Roma's small restaurant relatively normally. Antonio opened the door and stepped in hesitantly, Lovino close behind him, clutching his arm like a frightened toddler. The bell rang and he saw Feliciano turn to greet his new customer, his face alight, and then he saw that it was Antonio. His smile faded and he walked quickly towards him.

"Leave, please," he whispered.

"I can't- not yet."

_"Leave._ You are not welcome here. Go. Now," Feliciano pushed Antonio gently to the door.

"Feli!" Antonio heard Roma's voice call. "Table three is waiting!" Feliciano glanced back at the table full of confused diners, staring at him, and then back to Antonio desperately. "Feliciano?" Roma called again.

"Please," Feliciano whispered. Roma's head peeked out from the kitchen door.

"Feli? Who-" His voice fell short when his gaze fell on Antonio. "Out!" he yelled, waving his arms frantically. "Get out!"

Lovino's fingernails dug into Antonio's skin through his jacket. "It's okay," Antonio whispered over his shoulder. Lovino gave a small squeak.

"Who's that?" Roma asked sharply. Antonio could feel Lovino shrink back behind him.

"Come on," he whispered again, shaking his arm loose of Lovino's tight grip. He pushed Lovino out from behind him. Lovino stumbled, but then caught himself.

The effect was instantaneous- Roma gasped and grabbed a chair for support, while Feliciano dropped the plate of spaghetti he was holding, it breaking with an ostentatious crash and sauce and stray noodles splattered on his smart black trousers and shoes.

"Lovi?" Roma asked incredulously, a hand over his mouth, trying to cover his surprise. Ever since the fiasco at the hospital and the misidentification of the confused Enrico Fernandez, Roma and Feliciano hadn't said a word to Antonio other than a few mutterings of what a disgrace he was and how he should never go near them again or else bad things would happen, involving blackmail, dead prostitutes(Antonio had to smile at the irony of that), and the Mafia.

"H-Hey." A corner of Lovino's mouth twitched awkwardly, as if he was trying to force out a smile that just wouldn't come.

"It's okay," Antonio whispered into Lovino's ear, his lips brushing against the soft skin. Lovino squeaked. "I'm here," Antonio said. What he could see of Lovino's face flushed red.

"Brother!" Feliciano yelled and threw his arms around Lovino, hugging him tightly. Lovino squirmed uncomfortably and patted Feliciano on the back, as if he didn't know what to do with his hands.

"The restaurant is now closing!" Roma yelled, and then again in what Antonio recognized to be Italian. Customers scrambled to their feet and rushed out.

"I'll, er… leave you to it then," Antonio excused himself, one hand on the door handle.

"Yes, please do," Roma said coldly.

"No," Lovino spoke up.

"Pardon?" Roma asked, not unkindly, but as if it was really 'he-leaves-its-for-your-own-good-you-are-just-too- stupid-to-realize-that-he-is-dangerous.' It reminded Antonio of the way mothers would drag their children away from beggars and homeless people and hurry them along the street, casting a wary glance at the person their child just tried to give money to.

"He stays," Lovino repeated, a little shake in his voice. He turned to Antonio. "You _will _stay, right?"

"I.." Antonio felt unwelcome in the restaurant and didn't want to stay around Lovino's family as he knew he was an inconvenience and in their eyes, a dangerous person to Lovino.

"Please?" Lovino pleaded, and Antonio saw the fright and desperation in his eyes and he felt a twinge of pain in his chest and he realized that he would do anything for Lovino.

"Of course," he said, softening. He wrapped an arm protectively around Lovino's shoulders and Antonio saw a muscle in Roma's jaw clench and a vein in his forehead pop out. "Why don't we all go sit down?" Antonio suggested hastily.

Roma gave a sharp nod. "There's a back room we can use." He lead the way into a small room with an old beat up couch and a couple chairs which had obviously seen better days, and a kitchen table with one leg shorter than the others, propped up by a couple of thick cookbooks. Antonio graciously sat down on the couch, his arm still around Lovino, who was still flushing red, casting nervous glances at his relatives.

Antonio was confused- he had thought Lovino would have loved to see his brother and grandfather after so long, but this was not the case. He wondered if making Lovino get up and see his family was such a good idea after all.

Roma looked as uncomfortable as Lovino, he appeared to be restraining himself. Finally he burst out,

"Where the hell were you all this time?! We were worried _sick, _we thought you were dead- why didn't you come visit us, or call- how do you think you've affected your little brother! He cried for _weeks, _thinking you would never come back-"

"Grandpa, please," Feliciano whispered, but Roma continued his rant.

"-how irresponsible that is!? You were gone for _two years, _two _fucking years _and you never once called- how do you think we felt?!" Roma finished, panting from all the shouting. "Well?" he roared.

"I…" Lovino started. Antonio noticed he was playing with his hair again, using his fingernails to pull it out in clumps. Removing his arm from around Lovino's shoulders, Antonio gently took Lovino's hand in his (Lovino took a sharp breath of surprise, but didn't pull away), and he tugged Lovino's hand away from his head. He kept Lovino's hand in his, though, he felt Lovino needed the support.

"I found him a week ago in Brooklyn," Antonio said, taking the initiative since Lovino seemed too scared to admit what he had been doing.

"Found him?" Roma seemed to puff up, his chest swelling. "What do you mean by that?!" Feliciano bit his lip nervously and looked down at his lap, as if he wanted nothing more than to melt into the carpet.

"I- ran into him," Antonio answered, not quite sure what was the best response.

"Well if you saw him a week ago, how come he's only just coming here now?"

"He's been recovering," Antonio said quietly. "From heroin addiction."

Roma choked, coughed twice while Feliciano smacked him on the back, and then spluttered: "He _what?" _He shook his head. "Lovi's made mistakes, sure, but we all have- he wouldn't do that!"

"It's true," Lovino spoke quietly. His shoulders shook and Antonio squeezed his hand comfortingly, but to no effect. "It's all true. I'm just a junkie- just a fucking junkie," he spat out, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Just a junkie," he kept muttering as teardrops stained his jeans.

Roma's face seemed to soften, and he rushed over, kneeling at the foot of the couch, and pulled Lovino to him close, holding him and rocking him like a child as Lovino cried and cried. Lovino's arms wrapped around Roma and he cried into his chest, as Roma patted his back and smoothed his hair. A tear or two squeezed out of Roma's eyes, and then he was crying too and so was Feliciano, who had joined them now and was crying onto Lovino's shoulder.

Roma looked up at Antonio and gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Thank you for my grandson," he whispered. Antonio felt like an outsider, watching this small family reunion. He felt saddened, too- because he knew Lovino was going to leave him now, Lovino was going to live with his family and not with Antonio anymore, he wouldn't be able to wake up every morning to Lovino's face, wouldn't be able to hold him at night or make him coffee or see his smile. He felt sickened, disgusted with himself for that- _Lovino needs to be with his family, _he told himself. _It's what's best for him. He matters now, not you. Didn't you say you'd do anything for Lovino?_

Antonio looked at the crying, hugging family spectacle, and felt a tear fall, but he wiped it away before anyone could see it. He felt almost jealous, jealous of Roma, for being able to hold Lovino like that and rub his back and stroke his hair and dry his tears, jealous that he was not the one Lovino was clinging to like a baby monkey, jealous that Lovino was not wetting _his _chest with tears and not Roma's…

_How disgusting I am, _Antonio realized. _You should be happy for him. He's happy. Isn't that what you wanted? _And yet, Antonio couldn't help but think that although he had wished for Lovino's happiness, he wanted to share in it, wanted to be the reason he was happy, wanted to see the smile on his face, not just dream of him on lonely nights when there was nothing but a pillow to pretend was Lovino, to bury his face into the soft cloth and smell his scent on it and cry because he had lost him.

_I have to get out of here, _Antonio thought desperately, _before I get sucked in. I need to leave now and not be an intruder on the family sorrow. I don't belong here. I should leave. I __**will **__leave. He isn't good for me- he is poison, a poison flower- a Venus flytrap and I am a fly about to get sucked in and I have to leave, right now, leave…_

Antonio turned the handle of the door and opened it. He savored the image of Lovino once more, and then made to leave.

"Wait. Where are you going?"

Antonio turned sharply. Lovino's tear-stained face stared up at him. Lovino, embarrassed, wiped his face quickly with his hand.

"Aren't you going to stay?" Lovino asked again. Antonio closed the door and leaned against it. His eyes swam in tears and his vision blurred.

"Yes," Antonio said softly. "Yes. Always."


	25. Chapter 25

_Hey there! Short chapter this time, so the next chapter will be posted within a few days. I can't believe this story is almost over! Anyway, I've had a great time and I look forward to writing some more later on. I don't know why, but I really like the idea of therapist!Antonio, so there might be some later fics with that in it but more fluff and less angst. Or something. I don't know. I just really like spamano! _

_Alright, I'll let you get back to the story!_

* * *

As Roma did not have enough money or room to take care of Lovino until he worked up enough money to live by himself and Feliciano was currently living with someone else, and Antonio point blank refused to let Lovino out of his sight, they had agreed that Lovino would remain living with Antonio for the time being, much to Antonio's delight.

"I'm proud of you," Antonio praised, as they walked back to his house, the sun low, a bright penny in the sky casting honey light over everything in its gaze.

"Huh?"

"It must have been hard, to see them after so long. You did good,"

"Nah," Lovino refused. "I completely freaked out."

"Why do you think you did that?" asked Antonio.

Lovino shrugged, his hands in his pockets. "Dunno. They're just- too much sometimes. Feliciano- he's always smiling, always happy, and it makes me want to punch him because I don't know how he is so happy all the time and it just pisses me off. That's pretty sick of me, isn't it?"

Antonio said nothing, merely kept on walking.

"Not really," he said after a while. "I can see why you feel that way."

"Do you? Or are you just saying that because you're a therapist?" Lovino snarled, his head down.

"I…"

"Sorry, that was mean. But really. You don't understand me. You never had to deal with a mother who sat on the couch and laughed as you were beat, a brother who tried to help and only got manipulated instead, creepy old guys waggling their dicks in your face when you're just thirteen and you don't know what you're supposed to do- you didn't have to deal with that! You grew up in a nice house with a mom who packed your lunch and a dad who came home every night and tucked you into bed- you got to go to school! I never had that chance!" Lovino spat.

"Everyone has shit to deal with, Lovino," Antonio said quietly. "Not just you."

"Yeah? What problems do you have, not wanting to take out the trash?!"

"No, like being poor as shit and living off the free lunch programs and not learning or hearing a word of English until I was six because I lived in a tiny neighborhood where everyone was Hispanic- yeah, I got to go to school, yeah, I had a mom who loved me. My dad was never home because he worked all day at a factory and my mom worked two jobs and we still didn't have enough money and my brother joined the army to pay the bills and got blown up - but _oh no, you_ are much more important! You're the only one that matters in this whole world and just because you were treated shitty when you were a kid makes it okay if you act like a dick to everyone else! God _forbid_ anyone try to help you, you're too busy complaining about your problems that you never fix them!" Antonio yelled.

Lovino glared at him.

"How do you think it was, having all these rich white kids call me names that I didn't know what they meant, having my face shoved in dirt and being told to eat it because that's all that I was, having teachers call home and say that I am mentally deficient because I couldn't read properly- all my life people have said that I am _nothing _and that I'm stupid and I'm fucking _sick_ of it! And yet I still managed to get through school, I got a scholarship to a good college and vowed to help others- and I try and I try and I _try, _unlike you!" Antonio finished, breathing heavily.

"Do you think that I didn't try?" Lovino's voice shook with rage and Antonio was momentarily paralyzed with fright at what he had said and what Lovino's reaction would be. "Do you think that I didn't try to go to school? How do you think I learned English, as an immigrant whose parents never spoke it at home? Huh?"

"I… s-sorry-" Antonio mumbled.

"Sorry?!" Lovino yelled, and his Italian accent became more prominent as he struggled to contain his words. _"Sorry? _I went to school- _yes, I went_- for two weeks until the teachers dropped by because I had bruises all over me and I wouldn't open my mouth or say a word, and guess what happened after that?"

"I only meant that you don't… try to get better, you just complain- it's like you don't even try to live! That's what I meant! You don't try to make things better for yourself!" Antonio insisted.

"If I didn't try to live, do you think that I would be alive today? What part of eating food out of trash cans _isn't _trying to live?"

"I don't mean your past life, I mean- in the now. The present- you don't try to solve your problems! It's incredible that you managed to live this long with parents like that-but now that you have survived you make no effort to keep on living! It's like your.. drive is completely gone!" Antonio clarified.

"I made the choice to go back with you and get clean. I made the choice before to leave you because I knew it would only hurt if I stayed. I made the choice to stop selling myself after I thought my mother died, even though it was hard because people would expect things from me that I wouldn't give anymore and when I refused I was often beat. _I_ made the choice to go get a job and get my own apartment- I cleaned myself up- what part of that isn't trying? Tell me, if you know all the answers!"

Antonio was struck dumb. He had never thought about that, from Lovino's perspective, he had thought of the things Lovino hadn't done instead of how far he really had come. "I- I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "I realize now. You have tried. I'm sorry."

Lovino seemed to settle a little bit, although Antonio could tell he was still seething.

"I'm sorry," Antonio said again, stepping closer to Lovino. "You really have come far. I should have seen that." He took another step closer to Lovino, tilting his face upwards so he could see him better. Lovino's eyes caught his and Antonio was captivated- even though Lovino was facing him now his hand lingered on Lovino's cheek, feeling the smooth skin under his fingers and watching how the setting sun's light seemed to make Lovino glow, or maybe it was just Lovino- and he briefly wondered if Lovino's lips were as soft as his skin and he wanted to learn that, he wanted to learn every crook and inch of Lovino's body, wanted to know everything about him, wanted to love him and make Lovino feel loved and wanted to feel Lovino's body underneath his…

He leaned in and saw Lovino's eyes flash in understanding, and he straightened up a little and Antonio could still feel his hand on Lovino's cheek and he brought him in, closer, closer…

"FAAAA_GOOOOOOOOOOOTS!" _someone yelled as they whizzed past in a car. Antonio blinked, once, twice, and then stepped back quickly, his hand leaving Lovino's face. He could feel his own face burning and he could see that Lovino's was too, his face scarlet.

"I- er- I-" Antonio stuttered, not knowing what to say.

"Why don't we… uh… go home?" Lovino suggested, looking at his feet.

"Yeah!" Antonio said enthusiastically, glad that he had something to do now that meant he didn't have to look at Lovino for too long and wish that that car hadn't drove past and wonder what would have happened if it didn't.

* * *

That night, he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep. He knew Lovino wasn't sleeping either, he could see the glimmer of his eyes in the dark and knew that he, too, was awake.

"Hey, Lovino?" he asked the darkness. Lovino didn't answer. "Lovi, I know you're not sleeping."

"What," Lovino grumbled.

"You said- you said earlier that you left me, two years ago, because I hurt you… what did you mean?"

Lovino sighed. "I didn't mean anything by it. Go to sleep."

"But," Antonio scooched closer to Lovino, "did I hurt you? Because I'm sorry." He moved even closer, so that his chest and stomach were pressed to Lovino's back. "And I'm worried," he whispered, his breath tickling Lovino's neck, "that I might hurt you again."

He felt Lovino's body heat up. "Just don't say or do things that you don't mean." Lovino's stark voice pierced through Antonio's thoughts, which were somewhere along the lines of that he was so close to Lovino and that he had made Lovino hot and what that could possibly mean.

"Huh?"

"Do you remember, two years ago, when you put your arm around me, and then talked about how great a friend I was? How you let Colin flirt and hit on you, and when I got angry you told me that I was in no position to be angry, that I was just your patient and that was all I would ever be? And then you told me you cared about me and hugged me and I believed you- and then you went and fucked that chick Amy? And I tried to make you like me, tried to get you to see how much better I was than any old girl and you pushed me away with disgust? Do you remember that, or have you conveniently blocked it out of your memory?" Lovino's voice quivered with emotion.

"I.."

"Don't say it," Lovino snapped. "Don't whine about how you're sorry, because you're not. Don't tell me how much you care about me and then say what great friends we are. Don't hug me or put your arm around me or hold my hand because you don't mean it and I know it. Don't.." his voice trailed off.

"Don't what?" Antonio whispered. He felt Lovino's shoulders shake.

"Don't… make me fall in love with you again," Lovino sobbed.


	26. Chapter 26

_Previously_

_"Don't say it," Lovino snapped. "Don't whine about how you're sorry, because you're not. Don't tell me how much you care about me and then say what great friends we are. Don't hug me or put your arm around me or hold my hand because you don't mean it and I know it. Don't.." his voice trailed off._

_"Don't what?" Antonio whispered. He felt Lovino's shoulders shake._

_"Don't… make me fall in love with you again," Lovino sobbed._

* * *

Antonio didn't know what to say. He had never really considered the possibility that Lovino had _actually _liked him, it seemed so impossible and whenever Lovino popped into his thoughts, he tried (although not entirely successful) to convince himself that no matter what he might feel, Lovino wouldn't want that.

He wasn't entirely sure what he felt, either. He knew how it was to love a parent or a friend, but he did not know if he had ever loved a person romantically. And if he had, how would he know? What did it feel like? Antonio knew that he cared about Lovino more that he would for, say, a friend, but was that love or was it just him being overprotective?

He knew only two things: that he didn't want to hurt Lovino, and that he wanted to do things with Lovino that he wouldn't do with a friend, things that could possibly hurt Lovino emotionally. He wanted to kiss Lovino and to hold his hand and to make love to Lovino and to make Lovino feel loved and _be _loved, but if he did not indeed love Lovino, then those feelings and those thoughts and urges were entirely out of place.

"I- I don't…" he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"I know you don't," Lovino said bitterly. He constricted into a tighter ball, his knees to his chest. "Forget about it."


	27. Chapter 27

_Two weeks later_

"Can we research my mother now?" Lovino asked the next morning, surprising Antonio. Lovino acted as if nothing had happened the previous night, and so Antonio played along, pretending that his and Lovino's conversation had never existed.

"Okay," Antonio replied, a bit taken aback. He hadn't really expected Lovino to carry on with his 'investigation,' but he guessed he was wrong. "What was- what is her name?"

"Asunta," Lovino said, taking a sip of coffee. "Asunta Vargas."

Antonio opened up his laptop and typed the name into Google search. The first thing that popped up was an obituary.

"I'm sorry," Antonio apologized, not knowing how to properly break the news to Lovino, who was looking so hopeful. "She died just last week."

"Dammit!" Lovino pounded the table with his fist angrily. "We could've- could've.."

"Could have what?" Antonio asked carefully.

"I could have seen her- I could have asked why, why didn't she come back for me- there's so many things I wanted to say that I didn't get to, so many things I wanted to ask- I'll never know now." Lovino buried his face in his hands.

"Honestly, I think it's for the best that she's gone. I know it may hurt, and I know there are things you wanted to ask, but… I can't help but be a little wary of how she would answer." He scrolled down the page. "Hey!" he exclaimed, making Lovino pop up.

"What? What is it?" Lovino asked hurriedly, excited.

"She had a boyfriend, he might be able to tell you what you want to know in a kinder way- lemme find his address," Antonio said, typing furiously. "Found it!" he cried, scribbling it down on a scrap of paper.

He looked up at Lovino. "Do you want to go now, or later?"

"Now," Lovino said. Antonio had never heard this much.. drive, this much purpose in his voice and it both frightened him and exhilarated him.

"Okay," Antonio said, starting to feel excited. He stood up and got his coat. "Shall we?"

Lovino paused. "I kind of… want to do this alone," he mumbled. "It's just… family matters, you know? I kind of- it's something I have to do, it's my quest. I'm sorry," he apologized, looking at his feet.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Antonio said. "How do I know that you'll be safe?"

Lovino waved his hand, as if brushing off Antonio's words of concern. "I'll be fine. Besides, it's not that far. If anything happens, I can just come right back. But I have to do this alone."

Antonio didn't really want to let him go on his own, but he figured that nothing would happen. He lived in a quite nice neighborhood, and this address _was _very close. Besides, Lovino was a grown man, not a child. He could take care of himself, for the most part.

"Fine," Antonio decided, although still feeling a little queasy about letting Lovino out on his own. "Come straight back when you're done, okay?"

Lovino smiled. "Don't worry," he said. "I'll be fine." He opened the door and stepped out. "I'll be back soon!" he called over his shoulder as he trudged through the icy wind and down the pavement.

* * *

Antonio checked his watch for the umpteenth time. Only 45 minutes had passed since Lovino had left, and yet it felt like three hours. He sighed and snuggled back under his blanket on the couch, reading the same sentence over and over on the page of his book and he still had no idea what it said. All he could think about was Lovino- if he was okay, how the meeting was going, if he had what he wanted, and if he did, what then?

Antonio heard footsteps, running, panicked footsteps, and he got up quickly and threw open the door. Lovino collapsed inside and Antonio took in his terrified, chilled expression and noted that his coat and scarf were missing. Lovino shut the door behind him and fell to his hands and knees as Antonio bent down quickly. He noticed that Lovino was shivering, and tears were frozen to his face.

"Lovino," Antonio said quickly. "Lovi, what happened? Are you okay?" Still shaking violently, Lovino said nothing, and Antonio saw tear drops fall and stain the welcome mat. "Lovino?" Antonio asked again, his hand on Lovino's shoulder. "Can you talk to me?"

Lovino said nothing.

Antonio looked down and saw clenched in his left fist, the address. And in the right hand, were three lollipops.

* * *

"No," he whispered disbelievingly. "No. It can't be,"

Slowly, Lovino nodded.

Letting go of Lovino, Antonio straightened up. Rage like he had never experienced before washed over him, flooded all his senses and he looked at his hand, curled into a fist, and unclenched it, seeing that it was shaking, and he clenched it again and pounded the wall with his fist, breaking through the plaster. He could feel it scraping at his skin and he knew he was bleeding and it felt invigorating. He felt something awaken in his chest, a monster, roaring, howling, screaming to be let out and he heard its cry and acknowledged it and told it 'yes, yes, soon.'

"No!" he yelled again. _"No! NO!" _He punched the wall again and then drew out, storming across the room. He threw open all the drawers in his kitchenette and grabbed a steak knife.

"Move," he commanded Lovino, who was sitting upright now, leaning against the door, still shaking as tears dripped down his cheeks and off his nose. Lovino didn't shift at all.

_"Move!" _he yelled, and dragged Lovino roughly out of the way. Lovino fell on the floor limply as if he were a rag doll and could not move, but Antonio had no time for him just then, as he threw open the door and stepped out, the cold air feeling good against the hot rage in his body. He gripped the knife tighter and took another step, his toes curling in his shoes.

He felt someone's arms around his torso, and someone was dragging him back inside, and he fought and struggled against their grip.

"Antonio," he heard Lovino whisper, and the arms tightened and he felt like he couldn't breathe, the monster was screaming inside him, and he heard himself screaming too, as he lashed out, whipping at the air, trying to break free.

"NO!" he screamed. "Let me go! Let me kill him! _Let me go!"_ His voice was hoarse and when he opened his mouth he felt the cold air run through him, piercing him, and the monster abated.

He felt himself grow limp and he drooped, falling into Lovino behind him, and he felt himself being pulled back into his house and he saw the door closing behind him and Lovino collapsed against him, his arms still around Antonio, and Antonio reached out, he could see his hand in front of him, shaking, blurred and he felt hot wetness in his eyes.

"No," he heard himself say faintly, still reaching his arm out, to what, he did not know. "I have to- I have to…"

His voice faded away and then everything faded away and all that was left was Lovino.


	28. Chapter 28

_Note: Many people asked about the lollipops so I thought I'd explain here. Lovino's old pimp used to give him lollipops as a reward for sex, and Lovino said that he received extra lollipops when he had sex with his pimp. So basically what the lollipops meant was that Lovino's mother's boyfriend turned out to be his old pimp, who forced Lovino into having sex with him._

_Also, I would like to thank TomatoKiss for their advice._

_Disclaimer: Hetalia and it's characters do not belong to me, they belong solely to Himaruya._

* * *

It had been two weeks since Arthur had come home with Francis, and he still hadn't left, insisting every time that Francis made an effort to get him to leave that he couldn't go home.

"Arthur, dear," he said for the third time that morning, "you know I love you, but you're being a real pain in the derriere."

"So?" Arthur grumbled.

"So you should get the fuck out before I stab you with my pastry knife."

"What the _fuck _is a _pastry knife?" _

"It's a knife I use when I'm making pastries, obviously." Francis explained, rolling his eyes. "What did you think it was, a rolling pin? No wonder you're so inept when it comes to the culinary arts."

Arthur glared at him. "I'll show you how inept I am with a rolling pin when I stick it up your arse!" he yelled.

Francis laughed. "Go ahead," he invited.

"P-Put your pants back on!"

"Honestly, you're no fun," Francis sighed, re-buckling his belt. He looked back up at Arthur. "But seriously. Are you going to leave or am I going to have to drag you back to your place? Because I have things of my own that I have to do and I can't have anyone over without them thinking you're my boyfriend. If you _were _my boyfriend, that would be a different matter, but I can't afford to just keep feeding you. I'm still just a lowly waiter until one of the chefs kicks it and I can take their place, and so you, my friend, need to go." Francis gestured to the door.

"I know, I know, I just don't want to go home," Arthur said dismissively.

"Why? Because you have pictures of Alfred all over the place?" Francis teased.

Arthur looked away.

"Oh my god, you actually _do!" _Francis screeched with delight. He slapped his knees, doubling over from laughter. "You're some kind of stalker, aren't you, and you're going to kill his fiancé and send love notes to him written in newspaper clippings and you probably have a shrine dedicated to him with bits of his hair and toenails and one of his old filthy socks- god, that is _rich!"_

"It's nothing like that!" Arthur insisted, blushing. "It's just- I like to pretend he's there with me, so…" he twiddled his thumbs nervously. Francis laughed even harder. "Look, I could go home if I didn't have the pictures there!" Arthur yelled. Francis quieted, wiping his eyes.

"So you're saying you want me to go there and take down all your pictures of him so you can go home?" Francis asked.

Arthur nodded. "Basically."

Francis snorted. "Like hell!" he cried. "Just get over him, it's not the end of the world!"

"That's not how you acted after I rejected you," Arthur said quietly. Francis stopped.

"Fine," he snarled. "Give me the keys to your place and tell me how to get there."

* * *

Antonio paced the length of the room, cursing. Lovino sat on the couch, a steaming mug of coffee in his hands, but for once he didn't seem to be paying much attention to it, staring straight at the wall blankly.

"Fuck, fuck fuck," Antonio muttered, his teeth clenched. He stopped and looked up. "I have to get you to the hospital," he said, as if he had just realized it. "I'm sorry- I- let's go now, and then we can take you to the police station and you can give them the guy's name and address and we can get him locked up- don't worry, Lovi- we can do this, we _can," _he insisted, talking mostly to his self. He started pacing again.

"No." Lovino spoke up. Antonio looked at him but continued pacing restlessly.

"Huh?"

"He knows my name. He can find my family and he can find you and he can find where we live and he can hurt them, he can hurt you- no, we just have to leave this. It didn't happen. I never went to his apartment. Okay?" Lovino said, still staring at the wall.

"No!" Antonio yelled. He ceased his pacing and hurried over to Lovino. "No, he- he did something awful to you- he's not going to get away with it! What if he does that again to someone else? And so what if he knows where we live, where Roma and Feli live- he can't do anything once he's locked up!"

Lovino said nothing.

"Don't you see?" Antonio pleaded. "We're safe as long as he's in prison. But we have to get him into prison- he committed a crime and you're just going to let it slide?!"

"Yes," Lovino said firmly, taking a sip of his coffee, "because he can and will hurt you and my family. And so we stay quiet or else we pay a higher price."

Antonio sighed in disgust. "Well, you don't have to agree with it," he fumed, "but I'm going to go to court and get this guy locked up- no one's going to hurt you anymore, _no one." _

"When you say it like that I almost want to believe you," Lovino said sadly.

"Then _do _believe me!" Antonio yelled, pounding the back of the chair in front of him that Lovino was sitting on.

Lovino said nothing.

"Fine," Antonio breathed angrily. "You don't have to agree with me, but I'm taking you to the hospital and then the police station _right now _whether you like it or not, so get up." He hated that he was being this mean to Lovino but it was the only way he could think of to protect him, to make him see what they had to do to make sure this kind of thing didn't happen again.

Lovino stood up and slowly placed his half-full coffee mug on the table. "Okay," he said quietly. "Let's go."

* * *

Antonio was pleased for the most part that Lovino had no major injuries, just a couple bruises, and after the checkup Lovino had received from Matthew, he took him straight to the police office, where he sat outside while Lovino told the police officer the details.

They gave the police officer the name and waited. And waited. And waited some more. Finally they brought in a man and asked Lovino if he was the right man. He had beard stubble growing on his chin and upper lip and around his jaw, and his hair was cut close to his head, almost military-like. But the thing that Antonio noticed the most was that he seemed perfectly relaxed and unperturbed, his eyes wide and innocent, as if he had no idea why he was there.

"Is this the man?" the police officer asked Lovino. Lovino looked at the man, his eyes sweeping him head to toe. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then his gaze met the man's eyes. Antonio saw a glimmer of malice and threat in the man's eyes, for just a split second, and then Lovino looked away quickly, turning his head.

"Is this the man?" the officer repeated. Lovino looked up at him, and then back at the ground.

"No," he muttered.

"Come on Lovi," Antonio pleaded, "don't lie! Don't try to 'protect' me or anything- what matters is getting you safe! Please, answer honestly!"

Lovino chewed his lip.

"Is this the man?!" the officer repeated for the third time, obviously frustrated.

"I-" Lovino looked at the man, then at Antonio, then the police officer, then the man again, and finally the floor. "Y-Ye.." he trailed off.

"Yes?" the officer asked brusquely.

Lovino nodded and Antonio felt a wave of pride wash over him.

"Have you seen _this _man before?" the officer asked the man with the buzz cut, gesturing to Lovino with his pen.

"Never seen him before in my life," the man said jovially. He thrust his hands in his pockets. "Why am I here anyway?" he asked, turning to the officer. "Something happen?" He glanced at Lovino, who was staring at him analytically. Lovino looked away and Antonio saw a brief, self-satisfied smirk cross the man's mouth before his face resumed its staged innocence and he turned back to the officer again.

Antonio felt his face grow hot and his fists clench and he stepped forward, ready to punish this man who had hurt Lovino and now intimidated him, ready to make him suffer, but then he felt a hand grab his own and pull him back and he stopped. He breathed in and out, in and out, attempting to calm himself down, but it wasn't working, he wanted to punch the life out of the man standing before him, but the hand tightened around his own and the fingers worked their way into his fist and retracted it, intertwining Antonio's fingers with the cool slim digits of the other hand.

"Antonio," he heard Lovino whisper, and the hand tightened around his own and he knew it was Lovino's, and just the fact that Lovino was there, right next to him, holding his hand made everything clear again.

* * *

The man was going to be spending time in custody while they waited for the trial, which was two weeks from then. Antonio couldn't afford a lawyer, so he himself would be providing defense.

He was very nervous, determined to win, and spent much of his time now poring over papers and legal documents he had to sign, and reading through different laws and clauses and taking notes, trying to memorize as much as possible before the date of the trial.

Lovino seemed to become more childish than usual, staying in bed all day swaddled in blankets, staring blankly at the wall. He didn't speak much and rarely got up. Antonio was working so hard trying to learn the basics of law in just two weeks that he often forgot meals, and as Lovino never seemed to move lately, just stare and stare at the wall as if it were a TV screen, it was a while before Antonio noticed his unhealthy habits were starting to slow him down.

He had barely slept or eaten for the past two days, and that night, and it was becoming increasingly hard to focus on the page in front of him. He felt his eyelids begin to droop and propped his head up with one hand, blinking and blinking to try to get the feeling that his eyelids were leaden out of his head. Finally he gave into sleep and passed out, slumping over his work, the arm that had been holding his head stretched out in front of him.

It was late morning when he awoke. He opened his eyes, seeing little motes of dust floating in the air, visible only because of the beam of golden sun that shone through the window slats. He held a hand to his pounding forehead, and that was when he noticed.

A pillow had been placed on top of his book, a dent in the cushion where his head had just been. He sat up and felt a warm blanket fall off from around his shoulders. He rubbed the fabric between his forefinger and thumb thoughtfully. It was the single blanket from his bed, and he wondered if Lovino had been the one to arrange it around him.

Drawing the blanket around him like a cloak, he stood up, the chair moving backwards with a creak. The screech of the legs on wood made him cringe and he just stood still for a moment, taking in the sight of the room striped with late morning sun. Then he yawned and padded to the bedroom.

Lovino was on his blanket-less bed, laying on his side hugging a pillow between his arms. As usual, he was staring at the wall. He was wearing baggy jeans and a white longsleeved shirt, his feet bare.

Antonio sat down slowly on the bed. Lovino was facing away from him.

"Thanks for the blanket," Antonio said quietly. Lovino did not reply, but then again, Antonio had not expected him to. "And the pillow," he added. "That was nice of you."

"Do you hate me?" Lovino asked.

"What?" Antonio said, startled. "Of course not!"

"Yes you do," Lovino stated. "You've been avoiding me. You think I'm disgusting."

"No, I- I would never.." Antonio started to say, but stopped. He didn't hate Lovino, and he didn't find him disgusting, but he had been avoiding Lovino and even he couldn't say why.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. He knew why.

He was scared.

He was scared of falling in love. He didn't know what it felt like, or whether it was good or bad. He just knew that it hurt.

He knew from Lovino, who had loved his mother and been cruelly tossed away, he knew from Francis, who had lost himself once the person he loved rejected him.

He saw their pain and their suffering and saw how it ate at both of them, how it wrecked their souls, and he was afraid that that might happen to him.

He saw what happened when you entrusted your whole being to someone, and what happened when that someone didn't accept. He remembered having to pull Francis out of the gutter, remembered Lovino's insistence to see the one who had betrayed him and then the consequences.

He thought of the pain that he felt in his chest whenever he looked at Lovino, and he wondered if that was love.

He thought of the happiness that he felt in his chest whenever he looked at Lovino, and he wondered if that was love.

He thought of the images in his head of Lovino, panting and moaning, and he wondered if that was love.

He thought of Lovino, and he wondered if that was love.

_I love you, _he wanted to say, but he didn't know. What if he was wrong? What if he was right? What then? He didn't know what to say, how to say, how to make Lovino understand that he didn't know but that he was trying to know, so he said nothing.

"How are you doing?" Antonio asked.

Lovino said nothing at first, but then, thickly, "He made me remember."

"Who did? Remember what?" Antonio moved closer to Lovino, placing a hand on his shoulder, but Lovino shrugged him off.

_"He _did." The way Lovino said it made Antonio certain of who Lovino was talking about.

"What did you remember?"

"The bad things. The things I forgot on purpose. The things I don't want to remember but he made me anyway."

"I'm sorry. Can I help?"

Lovino's arms wrapped tighter around the pillow, his face buried in it. "No."

"You could hug me instead of that pillow, you know," Antonio suggested with a lopsided grin. He saw Lovino's jaw and shoulders clench and he wondered what he had done wrong.

"Don't."

"Huh?" Antonio asked, confused. "I was just joking," he scratched the back of his head.

"I know," Lovino snarled. "You always joke around. Nothing behind your actions. _Nothing," _he repeated bitterly, as if the word stung.

"What do you mean?" Antonio asked carefully. This situation was scarily similar to that conversation they had had that night, almost three weeks ago by now. Antonio had not forgotten that night, even though both he and Lovino had pretended it never happened, that Lovino never said any of those things.

Lovino sat up wearily and turned to him, his eyes piercing into Antonio's. "Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you love me?" he asked, and Antonio noticed how close they were and how uncomfortably hot the room had become, with Lovino so close to him, his face so close to his own.

"I…" Antonio was rendered speechless. He couldn't think straight, with Lovino so close, their noses almost touching, their lips inches apart… Antonio could kiss him right now, if he wanted, there was nothing stopping him, and yet- he couldn't bring himself to do it, because if he did not truly love Lovino, then that would just be a cruel lie.

He instead looked into Lovino's eyes- brown or green, he still couldn't determine- and saw painful realization embedded in them. Lovino looked back into his and he felt Lovino, in his mind, his heart, probing around, and he knew that Lovino knew exactly what he was thinking and that Lovino knew that Antonio did not love him as he loved Antonio.

Lovino looked away. "I thought so," he muttered.


End file.
